Autobots, Assemble! Book 2
by MiniKoontzy
Summary: Renouncing his old self, Galvatron struggles to overcome his own personal demons as he aids the Avengers and the various other hero teams on Earth. New dangers emerge from the shadows and old foes return for a slice of good old fashioned revenge. *Story going down for revision*
1. Chapter 1: Wings of Darkness

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2: **

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Pedestrians walked up and down the sidewalks near Avengers Mansion. Some were tourists and subsequently took snapshots on their phones or cameras, while others were natives to the city and barely gave the stately brownstone building with its wrought iron gate a second glance.

None of them would know until later that the famous superhero team now had another new member presiding in the sub-levels underground, and it was highly unlikely that they would know who he was to begin with. His name had been changed, true, but the newcomer was unknown to the world at large anyway. He hadn't exactly tried to flaunt attention the last time he had been on this planet, and the governments of various nations had worked hard to keep his species a secret.

He was no longer Megatron, fearsome leader of the Decepticon army who slaughtered wantonly anyone in his path. No longer would he strive to inflict pain on this world's inhabitants or ally with super criminals. No longer would he kill those who opposed him in combat. He was past that now.

No. That was not who he was anymore.

He was now Galvatron.

* * *

"Down that way is Hank's lab. The training rooms are down this way – you can give 'em a go with your holo-form if you feel like it. Tony's armory is down this way. Don't touch anything in there. Ahead is the lift to ground level. I don't think you'll need to use that very often unless you want to just roam the upper halls or something, or if the mansion itself is attacked. That happens more than we care to admit sometimes. _Really_ gets old after a while."

Wasp cheerfully babbled on as she gave Galvatron a tour of the sub-levels, happily pointing down various hallways and explaining what could be found and telling him of past adventures that had happened. He was modestly surprised to know that attacks on the Mansion were so commonplace as to be considered repetitive, boring, and even a little annoying to the heroes. Either the villains were incredibly brave to attack or simply audacious to the point of stupidity.

The little size-changer turned a corner, peeking her head around it and beckoning him to follow. He turned the corner and found her hovering in front of a rather large doorway.

"And this is the Assembly Hall!" she finished grandly. "This is where we do most of our planning and stuff or hold conferences about different things. Mainly with S.H.I.E.L.D. Sometimes with the FF – the Fantastic Four. We need to introduce you to them at some point. We're like besties. And Reed'll flip his lid if he got to see you."

A wall apparatus near the door lit up with lights. A well-enunciated British voice spoke then with a bit of amusement:

"Ah, hello Galvatron. I can see that Ms. Van Dyne is giving you the grand tour. Enjoying yourself?"

The large grey Cybertronian backed up, eyeing the talking wall apparatus with a hint of mistrust. He was a little surprised that the AI had already altered its programming and had addressed him by his new name. When had it done that?

"Oh! and that's Jarvis. He runs all the Mansion's systems for us and the different training room set-ups. Don't let the Ultra Magnus-y attitude fool you – he's really nice and helpful once you get to know him. Actually known to be a bit snarky, too."

"Should you require anything during your stay with us, I will be more than happy to oblige." the AI stated courteously. He directed his attention back to Wasp. "Also, Director Fury is scheduled to meet with the Avengers regarding Galvatron's presence here in a little over two hours. I suggest you conclude your tour by then."

"I'll be done _way_ before then, Jarvis." she reassured him. "Don't worry."

The wall apparatus flashed off as the AI transferred elsewhere in the Mansion. She waved her charge onwards as she zipped past him. There was still so much to see! Oh, this was so much fun!

"Come on! There's a bunch more to see! You'll have to use your holo-form though! Otherwise you won't fit in the halls!"

Galvatron strolled after her. They crossed back through the main docking bay where Stark was already at work with fellow Avengers Vision, Ant-Man, and Hulk building a modified launch pad for the alien's vehicle mode. The three of them waved as the large grey mech went by.

"Do your best to keep up with her." Hank smiled. "Those wings may be little but she can still reach impressive speeds with them."

He nodded and kept following the little female size-changer to the lift. His mind drifted back to all those times he had thought her irritating and bothersome – now, he found her admirably energetic and so full of life and fun that it left him with the ghost of a smile on his face. Even after spending the better part of a day with them he still felt awkward and out of place despite their efforts to prevent such a feeling. They had done nothing but be kind to him, both in word and action. Had Knockout felt the same when they had inducted him onto Optimus's team? Had he been just as surprised?

"Well? Come on then! Let's see that holo-form!" Wasp forced him out of his thoughts. "I didn't get to see it when Warren stopped by!"

"Yes. Give me a moment to activate it." he said. "I will say that modification were made to it by a certain someone. I...think you'll like them."

Wasp patiently waited as he activated the hard-light hologram after shifting into vehicle form. It was best to use a holo-form when in vehicle mode to prevent any kind of fall or tumble from occurring and severing the connection. He also took up less space this way. Wasp hovered eagerly, eyes alight. As she watched, a tall middle-aged man with black hair, black Kevlar body armor, red eyes, combat boots, and a trench coat walked around to the front of the idling alien aircraft. A scar disfigured his right cheek and a bracelet-like device sat on his wrist. On an invisible signal the holo-form spread his seventeen foot black wings for her to see, resulting a high-pitched squeal of delight.

"Huh. Not bad." she observed, resuming a more professional demeanor. "Kudos to the big guy. He's got a good fashion sense. The color coordination is really good. And that armor..." She looked to be near squealing again or drooling. In the end she tackled him in a hug.

"I'm just happy I got another flying buddy! How cool is this?!"

The lift doors hissed open and she walked in, gesturing him in as well. It felt extremely awkward to be in a confined space with her. Wasp helped with that awkwardness by continuing to chatter on until the lift dropped them both off at ground level. He stepped out into the long hallway with its ornate wall lamps, carved corner columns, and polished tile floors. When Stark built a base of operations he went all out. Funding clearly wasn't an issue for him.

She grabbed his hand then and practically dragged him down the hall and into the main foyer. A marble staircase led up to a second floor. Different halls split off into various other rooms. Under his feet, a massive calligraphic "A" in smooth black tile made it obvious who this building belonged to. This place...it was incredible. He actually got a certain Golden Age vibe from the architecture. The building reminded him vaguely of the Iacon Hall of Records – large, grandiose, and elegant. He had the grace to let his mouth drop open.

Wasp saw it and giggled. "You have the same look as Ratchet when he saw this place for the first time. It's funny how easy you Cybertronians are surprised by stuff. I mean, it's just a building. A really, really, really _nice_ building."

This time he actually did smile.

* * *

"Tell us what happened, Ratch! Come on! Come on! Tell us! You haven't said a word since you got back!" Miko pleaded at his heels.

"Miko. Lay off the doc." Fowler scolded.

"I...actually kind of what to hear what happened, too." Rafael admitted shyly. "It's not every day that virtually every single superhero suddenly vanishes off the face of the planet for a half a day through randomly occurring spacebridges. Where did those even come from anyway? Soundwave?"

Jack and his mother remained quiet, but it was pretty obvious that they wanted to have a re-cap of events as well.

"It would appear I'm outvoted on this, Fowler." Ratchet smiled. He also couldn't – wouldn't – disappoint Rafael's curiosity. He wanted to see his reaction when he told him _who_ precisely sent those 'bridges and what had come out of them.

He moved closer to them and sat, letting the three kids scramble onto his legs. The adults were content to simply lean against his pedes.

"I suppose it all started when Jane got a conference call from the other Avengers..."

Ratchet went on to explain in vivid detail what had occurred before and after the battle for Cybertron. His audience listened with bated breath during those nerve-wracking moments during the fight when they'd though they were going to lose and cheered at the miraculous recovery and arrival of Onyx Prime onto the battlefield, his screaming roar inspiring valor and courage in the heroes and utter dumbstruck terror in the enemy. Miko personally whooped up a storm when he told of Unicron's defeat by Primus and Amorra's powerful spell of banishment on Surtur and his demons. Rafael grinned and giggled at Optimus and Magnus's predicament of being a landing pad for sparks. Jack merely smiled as the old medic described Winter Soldier's playful antics with his former partner, his dumb shock when the friendly planet had told him to act as a kind of temporary psychiatrist to Megatron, and his later return with the shamed mech.

"Ha! Unicron totally had that coming!" she declared. "Messing with superheroes and 'Bots never ends well for the bad guys – they get their butts totally kicked! I'm betting he actually thought he'd win, too!"

"I actually feel sorry for King 'Con now." Fowler admitted. "That whole thing wasn't really his fault at all. He met his end with a least a shred of dignity, and then Unicron yanks him back to use as a puppet in order to murder his twin."

"And I'm positive the Avengers are being as nice as can be to him, Fowler." June reassured him. "They were forgiving to Knockout, so they'll treat Meg – Galvatron – the same way. And what better way to make up for his mistakes than to actively help them defend Earth?"

"I think that was really nice of them." Rafael noted. "To give him that chance."

A murmur of consent rippled among the five humans. The tween had summed that up perfectly.

Jack idly tapped his hands against his side, his thoughtful expression showing he was thinking over something. "I have a question: Was Primus the one to come up with that alternative? I have this nagging feeling that he just relayed it from somebody else."

Ratchet shook his head. "As to that I have no answer. We automatically assumed it was his idea to begin with, but now that you mention it...Perhaps it _was_ someone else's idea."

"Whose do you think it was personally?" June asked curiously. "Optimus's?"

The medic shrugged. "I honestly have no idea, Nurse Darby. Maybe it was his idea, maybe it was someone else's, maybe it was even the _combined_ idea of multiple individuals working together in his favor. Whoever was responsible, they clearly _didn't_ want Galvatron to know of their involvement."

"So someone who thought he might be upset if he found out?" Jack asked.

Ratchet nodded slowly. "Quite possibly."

* * *

Wasp had concluded her tour and had dragged Galvatron back to the launch bay so he could switch off his holo-form. This could have been accomplished from anywhere really, but he couldn't really fault her enthusiasm or her dragging him around. No longer was he irritated by her absurd energy levels. She just wanted to help and getting his spirits boosted, convince him that being a hero wasn't all blasting villains and flying around. Being a superhero was tons of fun! Oh, and it was kind of tradition to taunt Dave whenever he was caught. And tease Carol about being beaten up by Griffin.

"Dave?" he asked cluelessly.

She laughed as they went: "Oh my gosh! That's right! You never worked with him! You have no idea who I'm talking about! Dave's supervillain name is Whirlwind! Duh!"

He nodded. The name Whirlwind sounded rather familiar. Dimly he recalled Soundwave gathering dossiers on the Avenger's various enemies. He thought Whirlwind was one of them, and obviously he was an antagonist of Wasp's, but he had been far more interested in the so called Masters of Evil and their scheming leader: Baron Zemo. They were the bigger threat. In the past when it came to supervillains he had always preferred cunning over brute strength. Physical might could be overcome with the right strategy as evidenced by the incident with the Leader's gamma bomb (he had closely monitored that incident). A battle of wits and cleverness was much harder to win. Loki had proven that a dozen times over.

They arrived back in the main hangar bay. The main frame for the launch pad was undergoing the final touching welds by Vision's and Iron Man's lasers while an enlarged Ant-Man held a few of the plates steady.

"Guys! We're back!" she called out cheerily. "Why didn't you guys tell me his holo-form looked so freaking amazing?! You could've at least taken pictures when Warren dropped by! Seriously, I gotta get the glow stick's number now. I may make him a business partner or something! He's scary good with design!"

"Better to see it for yourself, Jan." Ant-Man grinned.

Tony laughed: "Ha! I'm sure he'd be flattered to hear you say that!"

Jarvis sounded an alarm over the nearest wall apparatus, alerting them that Fury was awaiting their arrival in the Assembly Hall with the others.

"Come on then! Don't want to keep the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D waiting."

* * *

Galvatron had been expecting Fury to be physically present at the meeting. He expected wrongly. When he made his way into the Assembly Hall, a holographic screen displaying S.H.I.E.L.D's Director was hovering over the table. Another hologram showed a young woman with black hair in a bob that was clearly not happy.

Fury was already deep in discussion with Captain America and Black Panther, while Ms. Marvel was dealing with the unhappy female S.H.I.E.L.D officer.

"Let me get this straight. You're telling me that a giant, sentient planet who just so happens to be a cosmic-level entity banished Megatron here and told him to help defend Earth?" the woman scoffed. She turned to the Director. "How much credence can we place on that statement, sir?"

"You dare accuse us of lying?" Thor snarled angrily, slamming Mjolnir onto the table. He glanced back when he heard someone enter and saw Galvatron standing quietly near the doorway, looking ill at ease and confused. "Would your opinion alter if you heard it from Megatron himself?"

"Depends." the woman replied testily. "How much trust would _you_ put in someone responsible for an interstellar murder spree and who _leveled a small town in a power show_? With a resume like that, placing any trust in him seems like a bad idea."

Galvatron winced.

"Stand down, Hill." Fury ordered sharply. "You've said enough."

Agent Hill gave in with bad grace, falling silent with a displeased frown on her face. She barely put up with the Avengers anyway – now they were accepting a war criminal onto their team? This was getting out of hand. At this rate they might as well accept Zemo or the Red Skull onto the roster.

"Megatron? Can you confirm their statements regarding your banishment and long-term assignment? Is what they say true?" Fury continued.

He nodded. "I can, and it is. As recompense for my crimes, Primus banished me to Earth to legally pay back for them. I am to assist in the defense of this world by aiding the various hero squadrons against their enemies, the Avengers notwithstanding. They simply claimed me first. I am also under liberty to rotate between the teams as I see fit. I can assume that such assistance would also extend to the countless heroes working on their own – solos I believe their termed?"

"Did he say for how long?"

"No. It is less about how long I am to assist and more how that assisting impacts me. This decision was mainly to satisfy my own need for punishment. Once I feel that I have paid for my crimes, I will be allowed to return to Cybertron."

Agent Hill snorted but wisely kept her mouth shut per Fury's orders.

"And the Avengers are vouching for you." Fury noted. "I'm not like Hill – I trust them. They've saved our sorry hides more times than I care to admit, almost to the point where's embarrassing. And if they're willing to testify for your good behavior, then I'm willing to leave it at that. So long as you do what you say you will. Are we clear on that?"

"And I will." Galvatron promised solemnly. "You have my word, however much you think it is worth."

Fury nodded. He seemed impressed by the sincerity in his voice. Hill, however, still looked skeptical. It became clear to Galvatron that words alone meant nothing to her without the actions to back them up. To her, he might as well be lying through his teeth.

"Meeting adjourned, then." Fury said.

Both holograms flickered and vanished. A distinct air of hostility now permeated the Hall. Thor and Hulk personally looked ready to go find Hill and pound some politeness into her. Cap sighed and shook his head.

"I should have known Hill would react that way to hearing about this. I'm sorry you had to put up with her, Galvatron. But as Fury's Second-in-Command she had a right to be at this meeting."

"No. Hill was correct." Galvatron said. "Words and promises are hollow without action to give them meaning. With my past offenses, both on my world and yours, she has every right to be mistrustful of me."

"She didn't have to be so rude about it." Ant-Man argued with a surprising amount of heat. "Rubbing it in your face like that was completely uncalled for and unnecessary."

"Her words were harsh but undeniably true, Dr. Pym. None of what I am guilty of can be denied, nor can I alter my past actions. Believe me, if I could I would do so in an instant..."

"I know the past hurt, pal. But here's the chance to make up for your actions." Ms. Marvel pointed out with a smile. "So stop beating yourself up. It's not doing you any good."

"What is past is past and cannot be undone, but from here on out what you say and do will change you for the better." T'Challa said. "Do not let your guilt consume you, Galvatron. You must move past it – accept it and be done with it; otherwise it will continue to plague you."

Hawkeye clapped slowly. "Wow. That was deep even for you, T'Challa."

The Wakandan scowled playfully at him. Clint used sarcasm so much it was often difficult to tell when he was being serious. But despite that teasing note in his voice, there was an undercurrent of earnestness in it. He knew that Panther spoke from experience, having been haunted and revengeful after M'Baku had murdered his father T'Chaka. Sometimes it was hard to let the past go, but once you did let it go you were free to move on with your life.

An alarm began blaring suddenly, red lighting flashing on and off around the Hall. A holographic map displayed a distress beacon coming from a vehicle near the Baxter Building.

"Avengers, the Wrecking Crew have just attacked an armored convoy currently transferring one of their own along with several other captured supervillains. Immediate action suggested if you wish to avoid civilian casualties."

Each Avenger exchanged eager glances. This couldn't have happened at a more opportune time. The Wrecking Crew would be the perfect test of Galvatron's abilities – they were simple, low intellect street thugs enhanced by gamma radiation. Perfect for an initiation battle.

"Time to see what you bring to the line-up, big guy." Hawkeye clapped him good naturedly on the back. "Let's see what you can really do with those holo-form upgrades the glow stick gave you."

Galvatron faltered. How could they be so certain about him already? He was still nowhere near an expert with his wings, had only used his shield and energy blade once against a group of regular armed human soldiers,not genuine supervillains. And he had no idea who the Wrecking Crew was or how to fight them.

"Think of this as a field test, Galvatron." Vision said. "As battles go the Wrecking Crew are not difficult. They are strong but unintelligent."

"We must make haste, Avengers. The drivers of the convoy vehicles can only hold their own for so long." Thor reminded.

Hulk grunted agreement and the Avengers darted out of the Assembly Hall with Galvatron at their heels.


	2. Chapter 2: Wreck It!

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 2**

"So precisely who is this 'Wrecking Crew' we will be engaging?" Galvatron demanded over his comm. link as he made his way to the launch bay. The Avengers had gone up top to the Mansion proper in order grab their respective vehicles out of the side hangar/garage where they were stored. Why they didn't just employ the groundbridge they had used to reassemble Team Prime was beyond him, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that villain groups like A.I.M or Hydra could easily trace the massive burst of energy it caused.

Which meant Stark was being cautious and plainly did not want to make a situation direr by adding to the number of problems they were going to have to deal with.

[Not a big threat.] Cap replied. [They're four low threat street thugs enhanced by gamma radiation. Only two of them are armed. Known for their strength but –]

[They aren't really known for being very bright.] Hawkeye finished smugly. [Play your strategic cards right and they'll end up taking each other out by accident. Trust me when I say that energy shield is gonna come in handy.]

[Also they're above taking random civilian hostages to level the playing field. The Wrecker was dumb enough to pull that stunt with Jane a long time ago before our team fully formed and Thor pretty much beat the holy snot out of him.] Stark added in as a vital side note. [Clearly he didn't get memo about _not messing with the Asgardian prince's girlfriend._]

The sheer amount of sarcasm in his voice made Galvatron smirk. That was a simple lesson with Thor – mess with the pretty lady paramedic and you get your sorry fender handed to you on a silver platter. Asgardians as a rule tended to be very chivalric it seemed. He filed that information away.

"Would they be bold enough to hold a S.H.I.E.L.D officer hostage?" He wondered curiously.

[I wouldn't say they are above such an act, but I consider it highly unlikely they will do so due to the fact that convoy officers are always armed and have a decent amount of field training, along with being accompanied by a special agent such as Black Widow or Mocking Bird.] Vision informed him rather wordily. [I say it unlikely, but I will not say completely impossible. They simply prefer easy prey.]

Galvatron positioned himself on the modified launch pad. With a gentle lurch it reoriented to face a very large exit tunnel that spilled out into the river. He checked his internal navigation systems, locked onto the distress signal that the endangered convoy vehicle was outputting, and gunned his engine and thrusters.

A load roar echoed around the subterranean launch bay as the alien aircraft shot out in a blur of black and purple. Schools of fish wisely swam out of his way to avoid being rammed. Sunlight filtered through the water above and Galvatron angled upwards towards the surface. He breached the water's surface with a spectacular explosion of water before heading off into the city.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooOoooooooooooooooooooOoooooooooooooooo

It took him and the Avengers less than five minutes to zero in on the fighting. Black smoke billowed into the sky from a damaged convoy vehicle. S.H.I.E.L.D officers had taken shelter behind it and were repeatedly firing at a group of villains who were wantonly destroying things. A few officers were already unconscious and suffered broken limbs after clearly trying to charge the criminals.

The officers below spotted the intimidating aircraft in an instant. One of them activated a Bluetooth in his ear and hailed it and the Avengers on the common frequency: [Thank God you're here! I don't know how much longer we could've held out against these maniacs!]

"Tell your men to fall back, Wu. We've got this." Cap said.

[Yes, sir.] Wu replied respectfully. He was seen to motion with his hands and cry out the order to retreat to a safe distance so the heroes could work. The officers seemed relieved for both the aid and the drastically lowered chance of winding up in the Helicarrier infirmary that day.

[Civilians have been evacuated, Agent Wu.] A S.H.I.E.L.D officer reported in. [Area secured.]

[Good.] Wu answered. [That's less for them to worry about. Now we just have to hope that reporters have the sense to stay out of the line of fire…]

[I'll see to that, Wu.] A female voice with Russian inflections told him.

[Thank you, Agent Romanov.] Wu said. [The last thing we need is some half-cocked reporter trying to get good shots and getting caught in the crossfire.]

The common frequency conversation cut off as everyone readied for battle. Wu's men had retreated a good ways down the street and a red haired woman in black Kevlar kept a lookout from atop a nearby building – Black Widow, one of Fury's (if not _the_ best) special agents. She would ensure no one got in the way, and would intervene if the Avengers needed a little help.

"Let's send these bozos back to Ryker's!" Hawkeye shouted from his skycycle.

Hulk growled agreement and instantly leapt for Piledriver, swinging two big green fists at the criminal's face. Piledriver blocked the blows until Ms. Marvel blasted him in the chest and knocked him into the side of a building. He fell senseless to the ground.

Thunderball took notice of the scary looking black and purple aircraft hovering above the streets and took aim, hurling the wrecking ball upwards. To his surprise the aircraft gracefully dodged the attack. Just by the way it moved told him this wasn't your run-of-the-mill jet or pilot.

'_If there even is a pilot_.' He realized with a shock. Was there such a thing as a haunted jet? This couldn't be one of those Autobots – it was way too terrifying looking for a friendly 'Bot.

[Galv quit messing around with him.] Wasp told him. [Land on one of the buildings and use your holo-form. Remember, you're trying to look like one of us, and also you don't really have any weapons the way you are right now. Just stepping on these guys might kill them – and we don't kill.]

[They're gamma enhanced, but that doesn't make them as tough as Abomination.] Stark clarified.

[Understood.]

The jet pulled back and flew up to the same building where Black Widow was. Soundwave had done some research on her one bored day and he had been shocked to find that she was labeled as one of the deadliest women on Earth. She didn't exactly look the role.

"Ah. So you're the one that Fury warned me not to shoot on sight because you were with them now." She noted while scanning the streets below.

Galvatron hunkered down near her and switched on the holo-form, running over to the edge to see how the fight below was getting on. An aerial surprise attack would be good to use on the Wrecker, who was preoccupied with Thor and Cap. Bulldozer was dealing with Vision and Ant-Man. Hawkeye was helping move the injured S.H.I.E.L.D officers to safety with Panther's aid. Wasp was being a nuisance to all three villains – no surprise there.

"If you take out the Wrecker, the others will scatter." Black Widow told him. Did nothing surprise this woman?

The holo-form gave a curt nod and launched off the roof of the building, keeping his wings tucked in till the last second and then unfurling them just above the Wrecker's head, distracting him. Thor took his opening and brought his hammer down on the burly man's head. The Wrecker blocked it - barely and rather badly. Cap hurled his shield, striking him squarely in the mid-section, winding him, but he recovered quickly enough.

"Heh! So the Avengers have a new black sheep on the team!" Wrecker taunted to the black-winged flier above him.

Galvatron frowned and growled. That sentence alone warned him the villain was trying to antagonize him into a rage, but he was self-aware enough to realize that it was working and properly fight against it. That was one of the oldest tricks in the book.

This man wanted a fight, did he?

Then he was sure as the Pit going to give him one.

With a snarl of rage he swooped down and landed, summoning his energy blade he had been gifted with. He would use the shield only as a defensive item in this fight. Mercilessly he began hacking and slashing and swiping at the Wrecker who struggled to block the blows with his crowbar. Wrecker was an offensive fighter by nature – being suddenly forced into solely defensive moves had thrown him off balance.

It was all too easy for the ex-gladiator to force Wrecker against the side of a building, trapping him. He lifted the energy blade up and was about to bring it down when someone cried out "Galvatron! Look out!"

Something heavy and round and metallic rammed into him with two tons of force and sent him flying sideways and into the side of the damaged convoy vehicle. The vehicle flipped over on itself as the kinetic energy of the impact was transferred and the flier found himself lying on his side, pain lacing through his wings.

Thunderball laughed hoarsely. Wrecker soon joined him.

"This guy ain't so tough after all!" They sneered at him. This earned them another furious snarl as the flier struggled to ignore the pain in his wings and get up despite his injuries. He was not about to go down just yet. He'd dealt with pain far more agonizing over the centuries than possibly broken wings.

"A gladiator of Kaon is not defeated so easily." He hissed, keeping a firm grip on his energy blade. His red eyes flashed angrily, challengingly. It was an _open dare_ for them to do their worst – he would beat them anyway.

"Let's test that." Thunderball smirked. He hefted his wrecking ball and hurled it at him, aiming for his head. Right before his eyes the metal ball seemed to split in two and fly past either side of the Avengers' new guy, falling to the pavement harmlessly. The new guy twirled his blade with a flourish, smirking.

Wrecker charged him with a bellow of anger, swinging his crowbar with all his might. To his consternation it impacted against an energy shield, and the new guy didn't even flinch from the attack. Instead, he kicked him to unbalance him and swung the shield at Wrecker's face with enough force to knock him flat on his back and render him unconscious.

Down the street, the S.H.I.E.L.D officers stared at him in open-mouthed shock. Fury had told them the Avengers had a new member but _holy hell_ was this guy incredible! He'd just dealt with two members of the Wrecking Crew _by himself!_ That was a feat only Thor and the Hulk could boast!

Now that only left an unarmed Thunderball and Bulldozer to deal with, and Bulldozer was more or less dealt with – Thor and Hulk had both ganged up on the wanna-be juggernaut and were bashing him up with help from the rest of the Avengers. Needless to say, Bulldozer didn't stand the remotest of chances.

Thunderball made the idiotic choice to rush Galvatron when unarmed. He swung a right hook at him only to have Galvatron block him perfectly and kick his legs out from under him.

Galvatron planted a foot on the villain's chest and pointed his sword at Thunderball's throat with a smirk of victory. Thunderball's eyes went wide in fright as he assumed that he would actually kill him.

"As I said, defeating a gladiator of Kaon is no small task. Only Soundwave and Optimus Prime himself can boast such an accomplishment. You were doomed to defeat before you even challenged me."

"Y-You're one of _them_, aren't you?" Thunderball stammered, keeping a wary watch on the energy blade held mere inches from his neck. This new guy wasn't joking around.

To his relief, the new Avenger (apparently named Galvatron) lifted his blade away from his neck and turned to address Captain America, though he still kept his booted foot on his chest to keep him from running off or squirming.

"Captain, I have this one secured." He called over to him. "Are the others dealt with?"

"Yep." The super soldier replied. "Let's drag them over to the undamaged convoy vehicles and let S.H.I.E.L.D finish transferring them. There should be power-dampening cuffs in them. Since yours is still alert, make sure to keep a strong grip on him, alright?"

Galvatron nodded and forced the villain to his feet. Thunderball was wise enough not to struggle and let the black-winged flier escort him over to one of the undamaged vehicles and let him clamp on the specialized cuffs without fuss. He apparently figured out that fighting him was not a good idea.

The S.H.I.E.L.D officers were quick to return to their respective posts and thank the team for the much needed assistance. One of them, upon being told that the new guy was really the holo-form of a Cybertronian, _completely geeked out_ with a very girlish sounding squeal that resulted in pretty much everyone staring at him like he was a nutcase.

"No way! Can I see what you look like – like, for real? I mean what you actually look like?" He sounded British. "I've never gotten to see one your species before! Well I mean I have via the Internet and descriptions from Quartermaine, but never up close and personal!"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Fitz. But he is parked up on that building over there with Widow. You can at least get a look at his vehicle mode." Wu said. "I'll have Natasha take some snapshots – ah, with your permission of course, sir."

"I have no argument against it." Galvatron said. "But I say let the scientist have his fun, so I will humor him and drop this disguise."

Fitz gave another girly squeal as the holo-form flickered and vanished. Honestly, if there was ever a man who looked ready to spontaneously combust from sheer pent-up excitement alone, Fitz was it. Galvatron found it quite funny, personally.

Up on the rooftop, Widow turned to the alien aircraft with a sassy-looking smile. "You big suck up. You just want a chance to show off to the resident geek, don't you? And watch him squeal, run circles around you and faint like a fanboy."

The aircraft's engine rumbled in a chuckle. "Guilty as charged, Black Widow. And personally I don't see the harm in it, do you?"

Natasha considered and finally shrugged, sighing. "Fine. Just be careful with Fitz, okay? He scares easy and he's kind of nervy. Be gentle with him."

"I will endeavor not to frighten him." He reassured her. He activated his engine and levitated up into the air, then hovered back down to street level where Fitz was literally bouncing on his heels in anticipation. Was it wrong of him to find that rather endearing? This was practically a humanized, geeky version of the Autobot Bluestreak and it really was rather adorable.

He landed in front of Fitz and let the S.H.I.E.L.D techie run hyperactive circles around him with a camera and scanner.

"Hey! Can I get a sample of your Energon so Simmons can study it? She's been begging for a sample since she heard about your kind. I mean, she's gotten samples from mines and stuff but never a sample from a live Cybertronian. Can I? Please, please, please?"

Galvatron sighed. "Alright, alright. Do you have something to obtain it with?" Primus, it was like dealing with a sparkling. "Or do I have to contact Ratchet for one of his giant needles of death?"

Fitz grinned and pulled out a specialized hypodermic needle with a diamond tip. He skirted around the sentient aircraft, searching for a place to drive it in, but came up empty-handed after five minutes of intense searching. In vehicle mode, a Cybertronian's armor plating covered all exposed lines and proto-form in order to protect it from planetary elements and space phenomena like nebulas and ion storms.

Galvatron gave him a warning to stand back and dramatically reverted out of his vehicular disguise, towering over the ecstatic and awed agent like a titan from mythology.

Fitz squealed again as he gazed up at the black and purple giant, and Galvatron was surprised to find it wasn't out of fright but _glee_. Widow had told him that Fitz was rather nervy and easily scared, so perhaps she had simply underestimated his bravery in the face of sentient living technology from another planet and the chance to learn something fascinating about said living technology.

Wow. That….actually sounded strangely plausible when he thought about it.

He knelt down and extended an arm so Fitz could reach the exposed Energon line. He hardly felt the tiny hypodermic pierce the line and in only a second or two the techie had his sample.

Fitz sprinted back to one of the convoy vehicles, shouting back at him: "Thanks! You're amazing! She's gonna love this! Be prepared to get spammed with thank-you messages from her for the next week!"

Wasp giggled at the pleased smile on the mech's face. He clearly enjoyed not having people run screaming from him and getting a spastic, friendly techie like Fitz on his side might come in handy later on. Befriending S.H.I.L.E.D agents was typically a pretty hard task due to their suspicion. Fitz would spread a good word about him among the other agents and help his reputation with Hill.

"Come on. We'd better get back. Or if you want to you can guard the convoy from the air and make sure it gets to its destination in once piece." Cap offered.

Galvatron readily agreed, along with Clint and Ms. Marvel. They would provide aerial cover if anything else should go wrong during the remainder of the journey. Everyone else would return to base and monitor for trouble elsewhere in the city.

Clint revved his skycyle's engine and Ms. Marvel hovered above the villain-occupied convoy vehicle. The mech reverted back to vehicle mode and joined them, letting his engine idle until the convoy was ready to depart.

"You're good to go, Wu. We've got your back." Ms. Marvel told him over her ID card.

The vehicles below them shuddered as their massive engines roared to life and started off down the street single file. The three Avengers took off after them, maintaining a sharp look-out for signs or hints of trouble. Galvatron detected nothing on his onboard scanners, so he let himself relax a little.

Hawkeye struck up conversation with him right away. "Looks like you got yourself a fan already. Nice work."

Ms. Marvel smiled at the uncomfortable stutter of Galvatron's engine. His personality had completely changed since his possession by Unicron. Previously egotistical and with a temper to rival the Hulk's he was now toned down and surprisingly modest concerning compliments directed at him. It was encouraging. Optimus would be pleased to hear of his progress.

"One S.H.I.E.L.D technician on my side is hardly applause-worthy, Barton." He argued.

"Not so." She argued. "Technically you've got two – Fitz _and_ Simmons. In regards to the 'evil mastermind with an underhanded goal' that Hill's probably trying to make you look like, that's impressive considering her rank. As Second-in-Command her words carry a lot of weight. Getting those two on your side just like that is a huge accomplishment."

"'Sides, you've got Fury, too." Hawkeye added. "That's the ace up your sleeve: if Hill gives you trouble, he'll defend you simply because we're vouching for you and he respects us. Well, most of us. I still don't think he likes me or the Hulk."

Below, the convoy made a right onto another street. Far ahead, the ocean could be seen shimmering dark turquoise. The destination of some of the prisoners was a large prison out in the middle of the bay called the Raft, while others would be taken to Ryker's Island Penitentiary – after all, the Wrecking Crew weren't the only captured prisoners being transferred.

[Those with the Wrecking Crew split off to Ryker's. Everyone else to the Raft. Avengers, you can pick who goes with whom. We'll wait for a decision if you need us to.] Wu relayed.

"I will accompany those heading to Ryker's." Galvatron told him. "If that is acceptable?"

He got the feeling Wu was smiling on his end. [Fine by me. Having a Cybertronian watch our backs there would be nice, frankly.]

"Then we'll head to the Raft with the others." Hawkeye finalized. He turned to the sentient aircraft at his side, winking. "Have fun. Ryker's is where a lot of Spidey's bad guys are housed. I got a rumor that he's on his way to help test some of the new security systems. Jameson's there to watch. Should be interesting."

And with that, he revved his skycycle's engine and followed his batch of convoy vehicles with Ms. Marvel behind him, the energy manipulator turning and giving him an encouraging thumbs up and a wave back in his direction as she flew off.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Personally the decision to accompany the Ryker's vehicles stemmed from the observation that Fitz was one of the agents in that particular bunch. One look at the man told him he didn't know how to fight very well, if at all – he was skinny and lanky and almost klutzy in appearance. Simple reasoning told him he was only there to ensure that the power-dampening cuffs didn't fail.

He was rather surprised himself how protective he had become of the planet's dominant species, whereas before he hadn't cared one way or the other. But he was different now, a defender instead of an assaulter.

Fitz kept up a steady stream of comments and questions for him as they continued along. Some of the questions were so technical in nature that he had to confess he couldn't answer them. Wu tried to keep Fitz from pestering the Cybertronian out of politeness, but was surprised to find that Galvatron didn't mind answering.

Galvatron was so busy answering a question that he almost didn't notice the spot of movement on his scanners until too late. He exclaimed incoherently and wheeled around at the last second.

And wound up with a red and blue costumed human impacting into his front end with a loud _WHH-THUNK_ that honestly sounded quite painful to him.

[What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?] Fitz demanded worriedly.

He was relieved and astonished to hear the mech chuckle. "I am fine, Agent Fitz. It would seem I have picked up an accidental hitchhiker who was trying to surprise me. I can only hope said hitchhiker is uninjured as well."

On cue, his hitchhiker groaned: "Owwww." He struggled up to a better position, rubbing his head with one hand while keeping another and his feet on his vehicle mode.

Galvatron was amazed that he hadn't just slid off and fallen to the streets below on impact, but his hands and feet stuck to his armor like little magnets. And the intricate web designs indicated who this was and why that had hadn't happened.

"Spider-Man? Are you alright?" He asked.

The wall-crawler continued rubbing his head, groaning out his reply: "Remind me _never_ to do that again. I can already feel a bump forming, and I just know I'm gonna have spectacular bruises by the end of today. Dunno how I'm gonna explain _those_ to Aunt May. 'Oh! Hey Aunt May! Those bruises are because I whacked into a giant vehicle-formed alien robot while trying to hitch a ride from him! No biggie!'!"

Galvatron sighed in relief. If he'd been out of vehicle mode he would've been smiling. This young man had just rammed into him, had accidently hurt himself in the process, and he was still being humorous and silly regardless of the dull ache his mild injuries were causing him. That was remarkably admirable.

[Hehe. Guess you found Midtown's resident web-spinner.] Wu guessed in a voice that betrayed he was grinning.

"I was going to ask for a ride formally, but you're probably upset at me now." Spider-Man stated abashedly.

"What? Upset? I'm not upset." Galvatron argued. "I'm thankful you are more or less unharmed from that stunt to be frank. You are more than welcome to a free ride to Ryker's. Hawkeye mentioned to me that you were heading there."

"Really?! You mean it?! Thanks!" He replied happily.

He clambered up and scrambled over and onto his canopy, making himself comfortable right smack in the center. He hunkered down with his hands sticking to the aircraft's grey armor to keep him from falling. At least Galvatron didn't have to worry about him losing his grip.

"Consider it my returning the favor for your friendliness towards me on Cybertron, even after all I had done." He said as he started off after the convoy.

Spider-Man's laughter was the most cheerful, spark-lifting thing he'd heard in his long life. Young and care-free and unrestrained, it was the laughter of a pleased child without a care in the world, happy to simply make _others_ happy. "Aw, you're welcome. I'm just a naturally friendly person."

"So it would seem." He chuckled. The hero's mask hid it well, but he could almost feel the warmth from the smile he had on his face.

Something seemed to snap in him emotionally. That warmth reminded him so much of Orion; back when warfare hadn't corrupted his innocent spark, back when they'd been friends working towards a common goal. He shuddered at the uncanny likeness.

"Hey…are you alright?" Spider-Man murmured reaching a hand further up and placing it above, where he assumed, the alien's spark chamber would be located. His simple touch helped to soothe the suddenly upset mech.

"Nothing. I'm fine." He replied, shaking off the quaver in his voice. "Thank you, though. For your kindness."

The wall-crawler pulled back with a friendly nod. "No problem."

They arrived at Ryker's Island Penitentiary without further incident. The convoy vehicles disgorged their occupants and the S.H.I.E.L.D officers set about escorting them inside through security much to the Wrecking Crew's chagrin and annoyance.

Spider-Man thanked Galvatron once more and nimbly leapt off, permitting the sentient aircraft to activate his holo-form and observe the fruits of his labor. It was satisfying to see these criminals off the street. Wrecker and his lackeys were a significant danger to innocents. As for Spider-Man's captured villains that had also been in the vehicles – they looked just as dangerous.

"Come on in if you want!" Spider-Man offered. "I'm gonna make JJ blow his top. You'll love it!"

He strolled inside via the ceiling instead of the floor. It was disorienting to observe for someone who had never seen his powers used so casually – he was literally walking upside-down as though he was walking right side-up!

"I'm betting what you are doing right now causes more than a few turned heads here."

"What? My walking on the ceiling? Psh. Nah. I do this all the time!" He chirped with a short laugh. "Still haven't figured out how I don't get dizzy, though."

"No, not that specifically. I meant your going into a maximum security prison where many of your enemies are incarcerated. I understand is it to help test the security systems, but….even you must appreciate the risk involved. Should a break-out occur – ?"

The wall-crawler nodded grimly. "That's why I'm helping test the security systems that Stark Industries set up – the place switched suppliers once it was found out that Green Goblin was the CEO of Oscorp. If _I_ can't get out then it means _they_ can't get out. I do this pretty frequently, anyway. I'm well known to the staff."

As he said this, a twenty-ish year old female warden strolled down the hall and stopped to greet him. "Hey Spidey! Here for another 'dungeon run', huh? I swear you're going to give Jameson an ulcer before long. Who's your friend?"

Galvatron lowered his gaze rather shyly.

Spider-Man came to his rescue. "Oh! Hey Amanda! This is Galvatron. He's the Avengers' new guy and he offered to protect the convoy on its way here. He even offered me a lift so I didn't waste my web-fluid. And you wanna know the best part? This is just a hard-light hologram – he's really a giant robot. How cool is that?"

Amanda smiled amiably at him. "Nice to meet you. I hope you'll do your best to keep web-head here out of trouble for us. We're pretty certain he does these partly to annoy Jameson when he comes to observe – it's his way of one-upping him without actually getting in his face to do it." She giggled. "Best of luck with the run!"

She waved back at them as she continued down the hall to wherever her destination was.

"Like I said – I'm well known here." Spider-Man repeated with a certain amount of pride. Galvatron smiled faintly up at him. He was rather like Wasp in a way – constantly upbeat and energetic in whatever he did, and possessing a certain, harmlessly brash confidence that complimented his young age.

They turned a few more corners and arrived in a large central control room filled with live camera feed screens. Standing in the middle of the room was a tall man with crisp salt-and-pepper hair wearing a white shirt and tan slacks, his back to them. Monitors sat at various screens around the circular room.

"Oh JJ!" Spider-Man sang innocently, dropping from the ceiling to the floor. "I'm here!"

The man whipped around in an instant, fastening on the wall-crawler with glare that seemed oddly pleased. He grinned maliciously.

"About time!" Jameson said contemptuously. Then he seemed to finally take notice of Spider-Man's dark companion. "Oh don't tell me he has a partner now!" He complained.

Galvatron was liking this man less and less by the second. He was blustering and overbearing and rude and rubbed him up the wrong way the more he spoke. How in the name of the Allspark did the youngster put up with him?

"Respect is a word you clearly do not know." Galvatron snarled, his own anger inadvertently conjuring his energy blade. Jameson took a step back. "This young man risks his own life daily to ensure that innocents are not harmed and all you can do is berate him."

The wall-crawler laid a hand on him in an effort to calm him down. "Easy big buy. Take it easy."

Galvatron growled and dismissed the blade with a glare at Jameson.

"Hmph. What have I been saying all along about vigilantes? They're just as dangerous as criminals, and he proves it! Both of you prove it!" Jameson snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's –" He pointed at Galvatron. "A former supervillain himself!"

It took all of his willpower for Galvatron not to charge forward and toss the man to the ground. Oh, it was so tempting. But doing that would simply add fuel to Jameson's fire, and it wouldn't help his reputation he was trying to build.

"Why don't you come with me, Galv?" Spider-Man hastily offered, more or less grabbing his arm and dragging out of the control room.

As soon as they were out of ear shot of the control room and on their way to the cell the young man was assigned to the holo-form snarled viciously and demanded: "How do you put up with him?"

"By making him look like a total sucker and managing to escape a supposedly impervious prison cell." He replied lightly. "And also sometimes taking out every single escaped baddie if a break-out occurs. You know – the usual. Ticking him off is the best sport ever invented if you ask me."

Galvatron eyed him with no small amount of wonder in his red eyes. If this is what the young man called 'the usual'….But he could understand the pleasure in ticking someone like Jameson off.

"Besides, I really could use the help if that ends up happening." Spider-Man admitted honestly.

He reached the simple cell. Someone from the control room wirelessly unlocked and opened the door, and with a strange sense of humorous finality it slammed shut, leaving the holo-form staring at a white metal door with no windows to the inside.

"How in the world does he expect to escape from that?" Galvatron wondered idly to himself. He'd briefly glimpsed the inside and the walls and floors were bare with no seams to exposed wiring, and only a single security camera silently observing from an upper corner. Vents in the room would no doubt release a knockout gas. Not even the simple furniture could be exploited – they were bolted to the floor.

If he pulled this off then he would officially call the young hero an escape artist to rival Houdini.

Despite being locked in a cell he was still allowed to use his communicator to speak with Galvatron. No one thought it unusual, and the topic of conversation had nothing to do with the escape – he was just telling him about the various inmates the holo-form should be aware of and how best to beat them should a break-out occur. It was literally idle strategic talk to pass the time and keep Galvatron from getting restless.

After all, he was there merely to assist if things went wrong. He was the back-up.

In the control room, Jameson was getting more and more pleased. Almost an hour had passed and the wall-crawling menace hadn't made a move. It was looking like he was stuck there this time around. Stark tech was clearly un-manipulatable and far more reliable.

Then Spider-Man turned to face the camera and fired off a thick glob of sticky webbing, whiting out of the screen and hiding his next actions from prying eyes.

Unseen by Jameson, one of the monitor-watchers grinned triumphantly. "He's started his run."

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Here's a look at chapter two of the sequel! I did a nod to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D by sticking Fitz and Simmons in! *smiles* I just love those two, and you will be seeing more of them – plus Coulson and maybe Mae. I will only be using **_**those**__**characters**_** though – the Cinematic Universe is **_**very**_** different from the EMH Universe. **


	3. Chapter 3: Protector

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 3**

Galvatron was immediately on alert the instant the wall-crawler went dead silent. He couldn't see what was going on inside, and all he could hear over the comm. channel he had set up with him was the sound of him completely emptying his web shooters. He had no idea what the young man was up to in there.

Two uniformed guards rushed down the hall. One of them held some sort of laser cutter device, which told him that Spider-Man had somehow shorted out the circuits that controlled the door. To get in they would have to cut it open.

But a laser would take too long. Galvatron had a better option in mind. He wouldn't be here all the time to help with situations like this, but he was there now.

"Get back." He advised. Both guards nodded and stepped away obediently. They watched in round-eyed wonder as the man summoned a blade of energy and drove it into the thick metal of the door, carving out an entrance for them to use in a matter of seconds.

All three of them stared at the strange sight within the cell. Every inch of the interior walls, floor, and ceiling was absolutely covered in webbing. On certain sections of wall and ceiling there were huge web cocoons. If Galvatron had to guess, those cocoons were undoubtedly full to bursting with knockout gas.

Before he could cry out a warning to the guards to not touch anything, one of the guards poked at a cocoon with his nightstick and ruptured it, releasing a cloud of knockout gas that rendered both guards unconscious. Spider-Man scrambled out of the cell and leapt onto the ceiling, unaffected by the gas via the simple method of holding his breath until he was clear of it.

Lucky for him that holo-forms were unaffected by instant anesthetic – they were hard-light energy projections. They had nervous systems, but only to a certain extent. Maybe the user might be susceptible if the right chemicals were used, but not the projection itself.

"Come on! Move it!" He shouted.

The incentive to do as he said came when a bulkhead behind him slammed down to block off a hallway. It was pretty obvious that the prison was going into lockdown to keep Spider-Man from escaping. If he didn't start moving _right now_ he would be trapped like an insect in a jar.

He broke into a run and flapped his wings to get airborne. All _he_ had to do to get out was simply dismiss his holo-form, but he wasn't about to leave the boy all on his own in a prison holding a significant number of his arch enemies. That wouldn't be right, and he had promised to help him if things went south.

Bulkhead doors continued to slam down as they fled through the prison halls, forcing them into side corridors or else blocking them entirely. Having a map of the prison made it fairly obvious that they were being forced into a corner in the form of a dead end – the main prison block. There were only two means of egress from that area of the prison, and each would be locked down the very moment they got there.

With one final loud slam of a bulkhead they arrived at the main prison block. Rows of cells lined the walls and almost all of them were occupied.

"Hey! It's the web creep!" A burly man in a titanium body suit stylized to resemble the Earth animal _Rhinocerotidae_ – this was the bruiser villain called Rhino. "And he's got a buddy with him!"

"How nice of you to drop in for a visit, arachnid." Another prisoner purred farther along the cell block. Despite not having his mechanical arms, there was no mistaking Doctor Octopus's unique voice print and appearance.

Having so many angry foes in one room was enough to make Galvatron extremely protective of Spider-Man. He flared his wings out and activated both his shield and his energy blade in an effort to make himself look a lot more intimidating. It wasn't a threat display – it was simply him relying on intimidation factor to make the villains focus on him rather than his smaller companion.

"Stay behind me." He ordered.

"Galv, relax. Those cells are locked tight. They aren't getting out." Spider-Man reassured the agitated holo-form. It seemed to work a little, but he still looked watchful of his surroundings. His red eyes flicked around constantly.

If Peter hadn't known any better he would've labeled the former Kaonian gladiator as paranoid. Or perhaps he just had an acute understanding of the concept of Murphy's Law. Personally he was leaning towards the second option.

A closer examination of his behavior showed that it wasn't paranoia, though – far from it. His watchful red eyes were summing up the occupants of each cell and rapidly formulating battle strategies for each based on the information Spider-Man had provided him earlier coupled with his own observations.

"Well lookee here. The bug's got himself a bodyguard." A prisoner with a thick Southern accent sneered.

Spider-Man retorted back sharply: "Bodyguard? Not even close, Shocker. He's an _Avenger_."

Shocker went dead silent. So did every other prisoner. They were used to dealing with the wall-crawler. They were not, however, used to dealing with Avengers, even if that Avenger was technically on his own. A few of them knew the Avengers roster, and this guy wasn't ringing any bells of recognition to them, either.

A raspy, haunting laugh wafted around the prison block, coming from behind them.

"So this is the mighty Galvatron, is it? Such a pity to see the great and powerful Megatron reduced to this pathetic state."

It took all of Galvatron's willpower and a restraining hand from the wall-crawler to keep the holo-form from lashing out at the occupied cell in a blind fury. This resulted in the green-and-purple clothed, masked occupant giving another rasping laugh.

"Goblin, leave him alone." Spider-Man snarled. "He's not Megatron anymore."

Green Goblin laughed again, casting a twisted smile towards them both. "Names are just like masks, Spider-Man. They can be changed and altered, but they cannot hide what is inside forever. His name may be different, but all anyone else will see is Megatron. He will never truly be accepted – not here, not anywhere."

The fight seemed to go out of the Avenger. All of his wrath simply faded to be replaced by a hurt look. His wings drooped.

"Don't listen to him. You know that's not true."

Galvatron's red eyes flashed as his internal fire was stoked by the words. He stormed over to the cell and slammed his shield against the energized cell bars. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart, Osborn. _I'm. Not. Megatron_. I've _changed_."

"But have you? You are threatening to end me. Have you _really_ changed or have you merely changed allegiances?"

Despite the sneer in the Green Goblin's voice there was an uncomfortable nuance of brutal truth in his words. He was a madman, but he was speaking harsh truths to him in the same way a sane man would. An intelligent lunatic was the most dangerous kind. One who could mess with his victim's mind was even more dangerous.

"Come on. Let's get outta here."

They started off down the long expanse of the cell block wordlessly. Behind them, Goblin let out another of his raspy, haunting, insane laughs. This was cut off by the sound of the energy barriers sputtering out and failing. It made both of them stop cold and tense.

In the control room, one of the monitors was frantically trying to partially undo the lockdown procedures. Jameson, on the other hand, seemed far too happy about this turn of events. Those poor guys were trapped in a room with multiple dangerous criminals. They were goners if they stayed there.

Another operator was trying to figure out what had caused the energy barriers to fail so suddenly. From the looks of things it was a hacker, but that hacker was long gone now. All they'd been aiming to do was disable the energy barriers.

"Ha! I'd like to see them get out of _that_ mess!" Jameson smiled maliciously. Two vigilantes against the entirety of Ryker's Island was a fight they couldn't win. Then again, the wall-crawling menace had managed such a feat before on his own….Blast it!

The first monitor activated the public address system in the cell block and spoke: "Guys! Head for the exit! I'll open up bulkheads when you need it! Just get out of there! I'll do what I can to slow them all down!"

He watched from the security feed as the wall-crawler bolted for the exit. Galvatron, however, bravely assumed a battle stance and turned to face the mass of supervillains, sword and shield at the ready. To the observing monitor he seemed stupidly courageous.

To Jameson he was just plain crazy. And this particular brand of crazy he could appreciate. This guy was a total nutcase!

All of the villains walked towards the lone Avenger with cruel smirks and sick grins. Beating up the wall-crawler was fun to be sure, but beating up an Avenger? Chances like that didn't come your way every day. This was something they could actually brag about.

Rhino bellowed and charged him like an angry bull, lowering his head so his horn could impale him dead in the chest. To his annoyance it ended up hitting the guy's shield, but the sheer force of the impact sent him skidding backwards a good ten feet. He steadied himself and resumed a defensive stance almost right away.

He just had to buy the boy some time to get a safe distance away. Then he would rejoin him. He didn't need to worry about being killed like this. It was just a projection, and any amount of pain inflicted on it he could handle.

Even _if_ that pain and the injuries transferred back to its user upon it's being dismissed or destroyed due to the holo-form being wirelessly linked to the user's sensory network. But every hit he took was one less that the boy had to. That made it bearable.

"You wish to battle a gladiator? So be it."

He snarled and rushed at Rhino. His energy blade was literally sparking from his controlled rage and the strength of its glow rivaled a small star. Rhino stomped his feet and charged again in the same manner as before. Just before Rhino reached him he spun to the side and slashed at his head.

With an ominous clatter Rhino's severed horn dropped to the ground. In response, the burly villain backed away with wide frightened eyes. His whole behavior was that of a scared animal.

"Who's next?" He challenged, growling.

'_Behind you!_'

Before he had time to question the familiar voice that just shouted a warning to him inside his head something hit him from behind – hard. The attacker's strength was significant enough to send him crashing painfully into a cement wall. It felt a lot like heavily compacted silicates from the grainy texture it possessed. He looked behind to see who or what had just ambushed him.

A heavily built muscular man made entirely of shifting sand stood there gloating. One of his hands was shaped like a giant hammer. As he watched it shrank and morphed back into a regular hand and his body solidified like clay hardening in a kiln.

He tried to get up only to have the man pound him again and again with another hardened sand hammer.

"Why don't you put him out of his misery, Sandman?" Green Goblin suggested, his mouth contorted in a twisted grin. He chuckled hoarsely. "Then we can go after the main event."

"Lay…one hand…on him….and I'll tear you apart…" Galvatron snarled out weakly. He could barely move thanks to his overloaded pain receptors, and the pain would only get worse if he dismissed the holo-form now. Its optical receptors were already beginning to malfunction. Darkness encroached on his vision, but he refused to let the holo-form vanish in order to repair.

If they wanted him gone they would have to destroy it – dismiss it by force. And doing so would give Spider-Man just that much more time to escape. That was all that mattered to him.

Sandman morphed both hands into spiked maces, raising them over the prone Avenger. Just for a split second Galvatron saw hesitation in his eyes, hesitation that a true villain would never have shown. Then he brought both weapons down on top of him.

Shocker uttered a startled curse when the Avenger flickered and vanished as though he had never been there at all. "What the hell? Where'd he go?"

"It matters little." Doctor Octopus dismissed casually. "He will not be back for some time. It will take time for the hard-light hologram to reconstruct. And by that time it will be too late for him to save his newfound friend."

Pain was the first thing he felt when the holo-form was destroyed. Intense, agonizing pain the likes of which he hadn't felt in a long time raced up and down his entire tactile sensor network. It felt like Grimlock and his Dinobots had decided to use him as a training dummy. Only centuries of mental and physical conditioning kept him from howling out his pain to the general population of New York City.

He tried to shift out of vehicle mode. He managed – barely. His overloaded pain receptors forced him to his knees. His optics kept fritzing out and blacking out his vision intermittently, and tiny droplets of still-warm Energon dripped onto the cement. As he had suspected, the beating the holo-form had taken had transferred over to him.

A wiser mech would have understood that he was in no condition to moving lest he risk furthering his injuries. This reformed mech was not one listen to common sense when an ally was in danger. Despite his deplorable physical condition he struggled back to his feet unsteadily, intakes ragged and short as he tried to steady himself.

But he couldn't manage it. His legs gave out and he stumbled back onto the pavement cursing the limitations of his own body. Blackness began to seep into his vision as unconsciousness loomed ever closer, and a familiar voice whispered into his mind comfortingly:

'_Rest now, child. I will personally ensure he comes to no harm._'

His last action before slipping into the welcomingly pain-free darkness was a gratefully mumbled thank you.

Spider-Man was in the middle of laying another web trap when his web shooters went dry. He reached for another cartridge to find that he was out of spares. He'd wasted all of them on the cell and what had remained he had used on other web traps through the hallways.

Now he was without a means of immediate defense or offense. He could fight hand-to-hand, but that would only work for so long against big villains like Ox and Rhino and durable villains like Kraven. Agility and speed only took you so far.

And from the sounds of things they were getting closer. There weren't as many voices though – that meant at least a few of them had been captured in the traps.

Just as he rounded a corner he bumped into someone accidently. It looked like an Asgardian man in all white and gold armor complete with a winged helm. He carried both a small plate shield and a longsword. Gold eyes twinkled like miniature suns. White wings beautifully complimented his armor.

The young hero jumped back with a yip of surprise, latching onto one of the walls. "Who're you? Wait…Where's Galv?" Behind his mask was a worried frown that betrayed his rapidly rising panic. "Where's Galv? Is he okay?!"

"Calm down, young man. He is not in any danger. He holds your safety as more of a priority than his own, you know. That is why he allowed the escaped convicts to attack his holo-form until it dissipated – he was buying you time to get farther away and call for help." The Asgardian spoke softly and soothingly.

He sensed the hero's heart rate skyrocket. No doubt he was holding himself personally accountable for leaving him on his own like that and was worried sick about his friend's possible condition. Admirable if perhaps a little misguided.

"I need to get to him. You have to help me retake the prison. If they get out, Gobby will go after him! I can't let that happen! I was responsible for him while he was here!" Spider-Man argued. "So it's my responsibility to make sure he doesn't get hurt!"

"Then perhaps these will be of use to you?"

He extended an open hand in which sat five fully loaded cartridges of web fluid. The young hero stared at him in shocked silence for a moment before taking them and starting off. When he turned around to thank the winged Asgardian he was stunned to find no one there.

"Um…Thank you?" He called out down the empty hallway in the hopes the friendly warrior would hear him. All he got was a faint echo of his own voice in reply.

Jameson and the monitors had watched this strange exchange in total confusion. One minute Mr. White Wings had been there and the next he had faded out of existence like an apparition. Their best guess as to what the stranger had been was another holo-form. Whose was it though?

Recovering from his shock, Jameson growled in aggravation. "Are you kidding me?! He was completely out of his blasted webs and this guy just waltzes in and hands him more! Is luck always going to be on that menace's side?!"

His answer came when three villains accidently activated one of the web traps that Spider-Man had set up. Mysterio, Ox, and Shocker were all snagged in a web net and suspended from the ceiling. They saw this happen with two other villains on another screen – Ricochet and Vulture.

"Huh. Well that's funny." One monitor murmured. "Whoever hacked the cells open only hacked the ones in the cell block Spidey and his friend were in. All the others in the remaining cell blocks weren't tampered with. They were being targeted purposefully. But who by?"

Asking why would've been silly. Why did a villain do anything?

Jameson sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this, but…." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone, searched through the list of contacts and chose, putting the phone to his ear. "Stark? We…ah…have a situation at Ryker's that…requires your expertise."

A few minutes of hesitant explanations later and he put the cell phone back in his pocket. "He's on his way."

"Let's just hope the kid lasts until then." A monitor said grimly, pointing to a screen that showed a group of villains led by Hammerhead and Silvermane with Green Goblin right behind them. The villains had finally figured out how to avoid the traps some of their fellow convicts were now ensnared in, but they hadn't bothered to help them down. Which was not unexpected.

They were far too focused on catching up to Spider-Man.

Slowly, very slowly, noise began to filter into the unconscious mech's audials and light and color filtered back into his optics. He was still sore and his whole body ached, but he strangely felt a little better than when he'd actually fallen unconscious.

The vague noises his audials were detecting turned out to be voices – concerned voices. Some he recognized and some he didn't. Those he did recognize belonged to Cap, Vision, Ant-Man, and Ms. Marvel. Each of them sounded worried yet relieved to see him coming to. All the other voices he assumed were either prison personnel or police officers.

Then he remembered what he was doing out here and why he was so sore. He got to his feet and began limping towards the prison. He barely paid the shocked and awed law enforcement officers any mind.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Ms. Marvel shouted, zipping up and hovering in front of him. He stopped in his tracks. "Where do you think you're going? Sit down and let Vision finish his repairs! Just look at you! You can barely walk!"

"What happened in there?" Cap demanded. Then he shook his head. "No better question: What the heck happened to _you?_ You look like you got trampled by a stampede of Dinobots!"

Galvatron didn't answer, ignoring both of them and continuing on. He was not about to break his word about keeping the young hero safe. He'd said he'd be there to help him and he would keep his word even if it slagging killed him.

An ambulance siren droned, heralding the arrival of a familiar paramedic and her Autobot protector. Instinct made him turn his head to look – and he instantly regretted doing so. Jane had a look on her face that was downright _murderous_. Ratchet had barely finished shifting out of vehicle mode before Jane began her approach, and he didn't even _attempt_ to stop her.

To him that was the most terrifying bit. It looked like some of Ratchet's personality had rubbed off on her at long last.

"You. Back here. Now." She ordered, jerking her finger at him and then back at the ground get the message across. Her tone was one she often used on disobedient teenagers who had a habit of getting in over their heads and who believed going back to stunt biking with a leg in a boot cast was an intelligent choice.

Arguing back at her would basically be the same thing as condemning himself to a slow, painful demise via torture by a Predacon with anger management issues. He was durable as Cybertronians went, but not _that_ durable.

Sighing in defeat he dutifully turned back around and made his way over to the human paramedic and Autobot field medic. He did not hide his worry from either healer. They probably already knew he was worried about his newfound friend. Having someone openly offer supportive friendship even after all he had done was something he plainly didn't want to lose.

Jane quickly set to work on running a diagnostic scan of his sensory network while Ratchet patched up some of the tiny leaks that his internal repair systems hadn't sealed. Vision did his best to act as a comforting factor to him, explaining that Spider-Man had managed to make it outside with no injuries and that the young hero was worried sick about him and coming to check in while Iron Man remotely took control of the prison complex with help from Jarvis and the control room personnel.

Right on cue Spider-Man's voice cried out: "Galv! Oh God, are you okay?! I'm so sorry I left you like that! I thought you were following behind me!"

He swung down onto a lamp post and lowered down on a thick strand of webbing, cutting it off to land right beside him.

Galvatron shook his head. "You place blame when and where there is none to place. I elected to stay behind in the cell block to buy you time. I can survive attacks that would have killed you. I gave you my word that I would assist and I did."

"Yeah, but….Putting yourself in harm's way like that? You didn't have to do that. I would've felt a lot better if you'd come with me. I was responsible for you while you were here and you got hurt because I wasn't there to help you. This…you getting hurt is all my fault. If I'd turned around to check right away none of this would've happened!"

It was hard for him to decide if this boy had a bleeding heart to rival Optimus's or a heart of solid gold. This young hero was torn up inside over one little forgivable error in judgement. Whoever had taught him the morals of being a hero had done almost _too_ good a job.

"Spidey, chill." A police officer said. "Iron Man's got the prison under control and the rest of the Avengers are going through the prison and dealing with the escapees that you didn't take out. This is _not_ all your fault, kid. Someone hacked those cells and let those crooks come after you."

This did little to ease Spider-Man's own conscious guilt. He still felt responsible for Galvatron's injuries, and it was pretty clear that nothing said would change that. His head hung, eyes cast downward.

The young hero jumped when he felt his head lifted back up by a single large metal digit. Red optics appraised him with a surprising amount of concealed emotion. He looked…_hurt_, but it was a hurt not related to his injuries.

"You are so much like Orion."

"….I still think it's my fault."

Galvatron snorted. Spider-Man wasn't guilt-tripping him – he was guilt-tripping himself. This boy needed a reality check before he angst-ed himself into depression. How could he possibly view this whole debacle as his fault and his fault alone? He'd done what he could to help _contain_ the situation for Primus's sake! None of the convicts had gotten outside!

Cap took notice of the glance tossed at him and smiled. That look was somewhere between pleading and holy-frag-straighten-this-kid's-skewed-logic-out demanding. He was starting to get a sense of what the old Megatron had been like. Forceful, but with deep-down good intentions.

Something had caused that personality to be warped and twisted vastly out of shape before the War on Cybertron. What could cause such a plainly protective mech who would willingly take a beating in order to protect someone else to turn into an egomaniacal monster hell-bent on killing anyone who tried to get in his way? Those were all questions for later, though.

Right now he had to convince this kid to stop beating himself up.

He nodded comprehension and walked over to the young hero. Spider-Man tensed as he detected the approach, though relaxing when he looked back and saw there no danger he needed to avoid. His mistake was that he turned back around.

He yipped when the soldier lightly smacked him upside the head. "Stop blaming yourself. None of this is your fault, and you're beating a dead horse by continuing to believe that. He's forgiven you even if he hasn't outright said it. That mech is more durable than you give him credit for and about a hundred times more stubborn than Hawkeye. You could've told him, even ordered him to follow you and he would've ignored it. It's like trying to give a cat orders."

"I…" Spider-Man tried to speak but words refused to form at first. "Yeah, you're right. I'll go see if I can cheer him up or something. Least I can do for getting him bashed up like that."

**Author's Note: Okay, guys. Before the flamewars start, let me straighten two things out. Firstly, this is not a budding bromance between these three, nor will a bromance form between any of my characters. In the series it was put out there that Orion Pax and Megatronous were good friends before their idealistic divide. FoxBear on DeviantArt made a very good statement – those two were like brothers in the way they interacted. **

** Secondly, I stick solely to logical head canon and actual canon **_**from the shows**_**. I do not own the Covenant of Primus, nor do I read the comics of either franchise. It enables me to keep everyone in character while allowing for suitable drama – something you guys tend to appreciate with me. Go look up FoxBear on DA or here on if you need proof of their friendship. She is the goddess of Transformers: Prime fanfictions. **_**WORSHIP HER**_**. O.O **

** I like to think that Galvatron sees a bit of the more innocent and curious Orion Pax in Spider-Man and more than a bit of the stern yet gentle Optimus in Cap, and I think he's the one most likely to freely give advice if asked for it because of that trait. My fanfic, my logical head canon – BITE ME. **

** Seriously, I'm debating doing an in-depth character analysis of the reformed Galvatron after I give him time to grow in this series. I find the idea suddenly very tempting…..**


	4. Chapter 4: Friendly Neighborhood Troll

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 4**

Galvatron knelt silently while both Jane and Ratchet patched him up. There honestly wasn't that much to patch up aside from a few minor leaks that were merely cosmetic wounds, but that didn't stop either of them from fussing over him like two worried Guardians fussing over a sparkling.

"What were you thinking?" Ratchet scolded sharply. "You could've gotten seriously wounded, even killed! Holo-forms are wirelessly and directly linked to their user's sensory set. You were lucky all you got was a thorough beating from Sandman! There are other convicts in there that would've done far worse to you!"

Spider-Man leapt over from his one-sided conversation with Cap, wordlessly asking the medics permission to approach. It was odd to see him silent – he was notorious for being a chatterbox to rival Bluestreak. His constant quips and jokes during battle were a trademark.

"Uh…" He cleared his throat. "You…you okay?"

Mentally he slapped himself for how inane that question sounded. Of course he wasn't okay because he had two medics fussing over him and looked like he was endeavoring to ignore his aching body to the best of his ability. He remembered being just as sore after dealing with Sandman the first few times. Coming up with excuses for Aunt May regarding some of his more noticeable bruises had been….difficult, and the residual sand in his hair hadn't made it any easier.

Thankfully Flash had turned into his go-to scapegoat for such excuses. Funny how handy a school bully could be sometimes.

"I will live." Galvatron answered shortly. He looked abstracted when his red eyes looked down at him. Spider-Man knew well enough what was bothering him. Green Goblin always left a certain lingering impression, and his words to him earlier had touched the mech on the raw.

"Hey, look. Gobby likes messing with people's heads for sick grins. You know none of what he said was true. He was riling you up on purpose to get you to react that way. You learn to just ignore him after a while."

"That is where you and I differ. His words were not only mean to taunt me – they were also _true_. I _did_ threaten to end him." Galvatron argued half-heartedly. He refused to make eye contact with anyone out of perceived shame.

"Yeah, true. You _did_ threaten him, and I'm not gonna lie to your face and say you didn't. But you didn't go _through_ with it, did you?" Spider-Man wisely pointed out. "I'd say that's more than enough proof to convince me you aren't Megatron anymore."

_'Very nicely put, Peter._'Cap thought proudly, nodding to himself. He certainly had a way with words. He wasn't just saying it to make him feel better, either; he was saying it because he needed to hear it – he needed to know that others had faith in him.

And it worked like a charm. Galvatron's abstractedly hurt look was replaced by a smile that quickly morphed into a devilish smirk when Tony decided to be funny and broadcast Jameson's rant over his comm. unit and the Avengers ID cards. Jameson was so upset that he was practically inarticulate, not so much upset over the hacker-caused break out but the boy's triumph in both escaping the cell and the prison.

Again.

"Geez. Somebody get that guy a chill pill." A nearby police officer noted. "He's going to give himself a stroke at this rate."

"Oh wait, wait! Cap, can I have your ID card real quick? I kinda left mine at home." Spider-Man asked. "If I can get him to smirk then I can get him to laugh, too! My dungeon run isn't over officially until I've said something funny to Jameson."

Cap shrugged and passed him his ID card. Hey, his cause was a noble one in his opinion. And honestly, as polite of a man as he was, he disliked Jameson just as much as Spider-Man did.

The wall-crawler fiddled with the card so it was now two-way communication. He was no longer just listening in. Now he could talk back to Jameson freely over Tony's ID card. He lived for the simple pleasures – and one of them was ticking off his own employer, unaware that his own photographer was the one doing the teasing.

"Oh picklepuss? Tah-dah!" He sang.

He cracked up when Jameson became even more inarticulate. It was pretty obvious he was swearing badly enough to make the hardiest battle-tried soldier blush but no one could understand a single word that he was saying.

In mere seconds everyone within hearing range of the ID card was laughing uproariously at J. Jonah Jameson's expense, and that included Galvatron. The boy had been right about Jameson all along – ticking him off really was the greatest sport ever invented because the payoff was completely worth it. One put up with his all-around bad attitude for this single reason.

"Tony, joking aside for a minute – _did_ you find out who hacked the cells?" Vision asked. "If not, did you at least find out _how_?"

Tony was heard to snort his laughter into check before answering: [I did a little cyber snooping to see if I could find our mystery hacker, but no such luck. They fled back into their own computer or whatever they used to hack the prison. Whoever did the deed utilized a well-hidden backdoor I build into all of my tech. Here's the catch though – only myself and Pepper know how to open that backdoor. Only we know that it's there at all.]

"Hmm…" Ratchet hemmed thoughtfully. If he had suspicions as to the culprit he didn't voice them.

He and Jane finally finished fussing over their patient and released him with the warning to take it easy for bit so his sensory net could recover. No heroics for a couple of hours, did he understand? Vehicle form was alright, as was flying around, but no crazy stunts or they'd have his head on a pike!

"You guys can head on out now. We can take it from here." A heavily built police sergeant offered gruffly. "Thanks for all the help. We'd have convicts running amuck if not for you."

One might've thought this thanks was intended for the Avengers as a whole, and in a sense it was, but his grateful gaze was locked on the giant black and grey mech and the smaller red and blue wall-crawler at his side. That mech had willingly taken a beating from Sandman in order to buy his friend time to call for back up, and Spidey understandably felt horrible about it.

If anyone lived up to the motto of the Avengers, this alien did and then some. He held his own personal safety much lower than he probably should on his list of priorities.

"Any injured wardens or guards I need to tend to inside?" Jane asked.

One of the half dozen wardens who had made it outside gestured to her to follow. She would help them and then return with Ratchet once she was done. This was her job after all, and Ratchet – being the overprotective mother hen that he really was – would not leave her alone in a prison, not on his life. He had turned himself into her unofficial bodyguard when Thor wasn't around to fill the role.

"You guys go on ahead! I'll catch up with you in a bit!" She called back to them. "Oh, and Galv?"

"Hmm?" From all indications he was taking the little nickname they'd given him in stride. He seemed perfectly alright with it. That was another good sign, and personally one she found rather cute about him.

"Don't make me put you on medical leave, okay?" She winked back at him and then followed the warden inside the prison.

Now he fully understood why Jane was more terrifying when she was being nice. She knew better than anyone how to instill the fear of Primus in someone in the most subtle way possible. If he disobeyed her, she would probably send both Ratchet _and_ Thor to knock some sense into him, both literally and metaphorically.

And she would do it, too. He had no doubt that she'd sic both of them on him if he put one foot out of line. It was no wonder that Thor liked her so much.

Spider-Man grinned broadly behind his mask. With those parameters there was one thing Galvatron could do for him to keep him from going stir-crazy for at least a while. It was a little thing that might make him look a bit petty, but he really did need it for more than one reason. One of those reasons was currently hiding on his nightstand in the form of a camera.

At least he hoped it still was….. Oh no…..Oh dear God…..

He silently prayed that his camera was still where he'd left it.

"So, ah….Would you mind giving me a lift home? I kind of need to get there before Reflector decides it's no longer fun to sit quietly on my nightstand like a good little camera. Seriously, it's like dealing with a tiny mechanical puppy! He's cute as all get out but _man_ _alive _is he hard to keep under wraps!"

The grey and black mech eyed Ratchet out of the corner of his optic. His look wasn't quite puppy-dog pleading but it was getting dangerously close. Ratchet heartily cursed the names of both Jazz and Hawkeye for indirectly teaching him that in the span of about a day. Then he sighed in defeat. Well, if anything it would keep him from climbing the walls from inactivity.

"Just don't strain yourself."

He nodded and carefully transformed under the medic's watch. His smaller red and blue costumed friend nimbly jumped onto his canopy, assuming the same crouched position he had before. Once certain his passenger was secured he lifted up into the air and took off in the direction of Midtown.

The young hero gave him explicit directions to a small two story house nestled comfortably in a scenic little part of Midtown. It wasn't the grandest of buildings, certainly nothing compared to Avengers Mansion, but it had a certain air of hominess about it. During the flight the boy had slipped on casual civilian clothes over his uniform and removed his mask, stuffing both it and his web-shooters into a small knapsack.

The street on which the house sat was small but he managed to land in the middle of the road without causing any damage to the cars parked on the curbside. He shut off his engine and dimmed his purple lateral lines.

"Stay here. I don't want you giving my Aunt a heart attack or anything. She's heard about your kind on the news every once in a while, but no offense – you're kind of intimidating." He said. He muttered under his breath: "Now I just have to hope that little 'bot hasn't dropped his cover and made a royal mess of things…."

He smiled when the vehicle emitted a rumbling noise that was obviously a chuckle. "None taken. Now get on inside to check on both of them. I will tell you now that mini-cons are notorious for causing trouble unintentionally. They always mean well, but…frankly I would not be surprised if he _did_ disobey you."

"Tell me about it." Peter sighed. "Thanks again for the lift and the save earlier. I owe you one. Well, actually I owe you two, don't I?"

He turned and headed for the door with one final nod and smile at the intimidating black and grey aircraft sitting quietly in the middle of the street like it was just another vehicle. Just before he went in he glanced back and saw that Galvatron hadn't moved an inch. It looked like he wasn't going to leave until he was positive nothing bad had happened or would happen.

With a smile and a shake of his head he went inside, shutting the door behind him and leaving his newest friend out in the street. Stubbornly protective fit his personality _way_ better than egomaniacal monster in his opinion. He was like a giant, loyal, armored guard dog like this.

As soon as Peter stepped inside and let the door shut he froze in his tracks. His Aunt May was sitting on the sofa in the living room watching the news reports about the near break-out at Ryker's, and curled up next to her like a robotic kitten with his head resting against her side….was Reflector.

When Reflector spotted him the little camera mini-con whistled happily and jumped down to greet him. His greeting devolved into flurried trills and beeps that Peter was certain was a stammered apology for dropping his cover.

"Peter, why didn't you tell me your camera was a disguised Cybertronian?" She demanded.

Peter's face flushed in embarrassment. "Well, see I-I didn't know how you'd take it. I didn't lie to you intentionally, Aunt May; it's just that having a robotic alien in the house is kind of weird to some people, and I didn't want to upset you I guess."

"Oh I'm not upset." She smiled kindly, lowering the volume on the television. "This one's been very helpful in many ways. And I think he's such a dear – so eager to help. Of course, seeing a tiny mechanoid tumble down the stairs was a bit of a surprise to me, but _he_ was the one who was upset, Peter. I had to calm him down – he was on the verge of panicking, poor thing!"

Reflector bwooped and shuffled his feet shyly. Peter glanced down at him with a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you look. The little mech managed a shy smile up at him before scooching away to seek shelter with his Aunt.

"Not that I blame him. I was worried, too – that near break-out put me on edge, as well." She continued on. "I don't blame him for worrying about you. You were out at the time around that area, weren't you? How did you get home so quickly?"

"Uh…"

Peter unconsciously stole a glance out of the window to see if Galvatron was still out there waiting, and he was honestly surprised that he still was diligently parked out on the street. Lying to his Aunt May felt wrong, it really did, and she had already followed his gaze and spotted what he was eyeing.

"Is….is that another Cybertronian?" She asked, getting up from the sofa to look out of the window. "Peter? Is that how you got home?"

He nodded rather guiltily and half-lied: "Uh-huh. He was heading out from Ryker's and he gave me a lift here. Jameson called me and told me to get over to the area around the prison to get pictures – from a safe distance - but I had to tell him that I forgot my camera and started off towards one of the bus stops. That mech considered it way too risky for me to be anywhere near that place and took me home right away."

"Well I think that was very nice of him." She smiled indulgently out at the intimidating black and grey alien aircraft. "What's his name?"

"Galvatron. He's with the Avengers. He's their newest member."

His Aunt started for the door determinedly. "I think he deserves a thank-you for bringing you home safely. It's the least I can offer him."

Peter rushed to the door and blocked it. He laughed nervously: "I don't think that's necessary, Aunt May. He's kind of shy around people, and he's about to head off to regroup with the Avengers anyway. He doesn't want them worrying about him."

She waved aside his argument and expertly maneuvered her hand around him to reach the door knob. "Oh nonsense, Peter. This won't take more than a minute of his time."

Realizing there was literally no way around or out of this Peter sighed in defeat and let her walk out without trying to stop her or convince her that it really _wasn't _needed and would probably make the mech melt into the pavement out of embarrassment. His Aunt could be a little excessive in her thanks, but hopefully he could keep her from embarrassing him _too_ much. He looked back to see Reflector dozing peacefully on the sofa before following her out.

Galvatron forced himself out of very light recharge when he detected footsteps approaching him. Seeing both the young man and his elderly Aunt May heading for him, he flickered his purple lateral lines at them to show that he knew they were coming. The boy had an apologetic look on his face while the elderly lady had a grateful smile on her face that radiated kindness.

Color him shocked that she wasn't intimidated by him in the slightest. If anything she had the look of a mother about to congratulate a child on a special achievement. She approached him calmly, her head ever so slightly tilted to one side as she regarded him through her glasses.

"Hello?" He hazarded, his lateral lines flashing as he spoke. "Is something the matter?"

She shook her head. "Oh, no, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to thank you for bringing my nephew home safely for me. That awful situation at Ryker's had me worried about him. He has an unfortunate talent for attracting trouble wherever he goes."

"Aunt May." Peter whispered harshly, looking distinctly embarrassed.

"You're welcome." Galvatron replied politely. He had to keep himself from snorting in amusement at the boy's rapidly reddening face – poor Peter was turning as red as Cliffjumper's armor plating. And he had to hand it to him – this youngster could _act_. In one persona he was confident and witty; in this one he was shy and rather awkward. Those were two totally different personalities and he could shift between them _seamlessly_! That took _talent_.

The elderly lady laid a thankful hand on his plating that made his previously iron-clad spark glow. She then turned and made her way inside with her nephew in tow. He didn't need to be showered in praise to know that his simple but meaningful little task was appreciated.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the parked vehicles, the sentient aircraft lifted off and started his short journey towards the stately brownstone building that he was already beginning to consider his home away from home.

The call about the Wrecking Crew had come around midday. Almost five hours had passed when Galvatron finally re-entered the subterranean launch bay via the hidden exit tunnel beneath the river. Outside, the sun began to dip below the horizon, igniting the sky in a burning mosaic.

"There you are! What took you?" Tony asked. He was busy with maintenance on one of the Quinjets and had a power drill in one hand and a wrench in the other. No one else was around. Only the rush of water and the growl of the power tool could be heard.

"I…got a little side-tracked." He admitted.

Tony chuckled at how guilty he sounded. "Hey, happens to the best of us. Besides, Spidey's a nice kid. I don't blame you for wanting to help him. Your sensory net recovered yet? You don't look as ache-y as you did earlier." He exchanged the power drill for another tool, circling around to the Quinjet's thrusters.

"It is better. My sensory net tends to recover faster than normal thanks to conditioning brought on by years as a gladiator."

"So you've got more of a pain tolerance than most people. Interesting." He replied. "Another thing I didn't know about you."

Galvatron walked around the Quinjet to find him again. "What are you doing down here all by yourself?"

Tony continued to dart around the armed aircraft, checking the systems one by one. "Eh. I find that doing stuff like this helps me think out difficult problems. My brain has a habit of multi-tasking when it really should be focusing on one subject at a time. I work with it instead of against it – it's better that way. I'm just trying to figure out how that hacker knew about the back-door, and why they went after you and Spidey specifically. None of the other cell blocks were touched."

He frowned in frustration, leaning against the Quinjet and rubbing his temples. "I just…I don't know. And I hate not knowing. Not knowing is a total nightmare for me because everyone expects _me_ to have all the tech answers. How am I supposed to tell them that I don't have a clue?"

Seeing the normally confident Iron Man like this was definitely something the mech hadn't been expecting. He seemed right now like a frustrated child desperately in need of guidance or reassurance from a father figure who wasn't there. It struck him that both Cap and Optimus, and in a more immediate sense, Ratchet, had all provided that need to him, and the soldier and Ratchet still did.

"I suppose you have Ratchet working on this mystery?"

Tony sighed: "Yeah, but he hasn't reported back yet. He doesn't know Earth tech as well as Raf does, so he kind of needs his help." He forced a smile at him. "But enough of my moping – it'll come to me eventually. That's usually how it works. What's up with you? How'd your drop off go?"

"I believe Reflector might be in some form of trouble with Peter." He hinted. He knew the man was smart enough to connect the dots, and connect he did.

Tony cracked a wide grin. "See, that's why I want a mini-con! They're little rebels and they don't even seem to notice it because all they want to do is help! I'd love to have one of those little guys around to help with things. Jarvis would too, wouldn't you buddy?"

"That would depend, sir." Jarvis said noncommittally from inside the Quinjet where he was running a diagnostic on the tracking systems. Tony smirked and affectionately patted the aircraft. He didn't know what he'd do without the AI. He was like an older brother.

He went back to finishing his full system check and maintenance of the Quinjet. Galvatron watched him with interest. Already he could see the inventor's mind beginning to work again on the problem at hand while also managing to complete something productive at the same time.

Soundwave had compiled dossiers on each of the Avengers after their accidental jaunt to Asgard and had pointed out this particular trait of Iron Man as noteworthy. He could be thinking about one thing and doing something entirely unrelated to it at the same time, oftentimes keeping up conversation all the while. It was like his brain _had_ to be moving at a million miles an hour for it to work _at all_. That trait might explain why Stark was never truly idle. Thus far, he'd never seen him sit down and relax for more than maybe half an hour at a time, and even then he was always fiddling with something or other. Sitting idle would practically drive him loopy.

It was funny really. He'd thoroughly made up his mind that he shared absolutely nothing in common with the Avengers, but Stark actually shared one of his own behavioral quirks and took it up twelve pegs in the process. During the War he'd been busy manning an entire army, and before that as a miner and later a gladiator - the mere thought of being idle was inconceivable to him. He'd always been active – it was a part of his core programming.

"What?" Stark asked, one eyebrow quizzically raised.

It took the mech a moment to realize he'd been unconsciously staring at the man while thinking over this.

"Nothing. Just…thinking." He said. "Sorry."

Stark grinned and shrugged, clambering down off the rear end of the Quinjet. "Hey, everyone has that little habit of staring at something, anything, when they're thinking over something. I'm no different. You don't need apologize for it, Galv. It's just how the brain works – it forces the eyes to fixate on one thing so it can focus better and concentrate on the problem at hand."

Then he froze mid-step, a look of sudden dawning comprehension on his face. "That's it. That's how the hacker got in! They must've done something to focus the system's attention _away_ from them so they could look for the backdoor without being kicked out. Did anything weird happen at Ryker's that you remember? Lights flickering, electricity going out in one of the other cell blocks or the hallways – anything like that?"

He thought back on everything that had happened at the prison. Only one thing really stood out, but it seemed so coincidental in nature that really it was absurd.

"The cell. The cell the boy was in somehow had the power cut. I had to carve it open. He's good, but I don't think he would have been able to accomplish that with his limited tools. Either the hacker accidentally aided him or he was purposefully helping him escape."

Stark nodded vigorously. "That would explain why the bulkheads were directing you towards the cell block where Spidey's enemies were. The guards said they temporarily lost control of the lockdown systems for about a minute – which was how long it took you to get to the cell block. This hacker _wanted_ a confrontation to happen and purposefully led you two there. But _why? _It's the _why_ that I don't get."

He started pacing back and forth at the mech's feet. "They could've easily just let the kid stay cooped up in the cell and let the criminals come there, open the cell with brute force, and take care of him after taking care of your holo-form. But that didn't happen. Why? _Why wouldn't they choose the easiest course of action_?"

Galvatron watched the man pace back and forth for another ten minutes as he rapidly mumbled to himself all sorts of possible theories as to why the hacker would behave that way, his red eyes roving back and forth and back and forth as he tried to keep up with the rapid flow of words.

"Stark, perhaps you should focus less on why and more on whom. _Who_ had the knowledge to find the back-door in such a short time span? _Who_ knew how to trick your own system into following a false breach?" He suggested.

Stark nodded absently, continuing to pace feverishly and mutter. Just for a brief second he let himself appreciate the mech's intelligence. For an ex-miner-turned-gladiator-turned-warlord this guy had a lot of common sense and smarts tucked away.

The lift nearby hissed open to admit Cap who looked a little puzzled about the strange scene near the Quinjet – an anxiously pacing Tony and a confusedly worried Galvatron looming over him and watching him pace.

"What's going on?" He asked, walking over to observe, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Your friend here is having a bit of a brainstorm. I would not advise interrupting him." Galvatron said with a very tiny smirk on his face. He was pleasantly stunned to see the soldier smile while he watched Tony's continued pacing.

Cap strolled over and planted himself right in his path. Tony, completely oblivious to him, bonked into him. It seemed to jolt him out of hyper-active brain mode and into normal person mode in a snap.

"Tony, you're over-thinking a problem again." Cap scolded lightly. "_Simplify_ it. You're making it a lot more complicated than it needs to be. Narrow down your options _first_, and _then_ you can start figuring out who was responsible for the hacking. Because, seriously, I kind of doubt the Serpent Society have the smarts to go after Spider-Man. Oh sure, they have enough of a _reason_, but I really don't think they'd be able to hack your hidden back-door _that_ quickly. You're giving them too much credit there."

How exactly the man had known about Tony's rapid muttering and what the contents of it were was a mystery to Galvatron. The man wasn't telepathic in the slightest. Was it just because he'd been around Tony for so long that he could effectively guess what was on his mind? If so, then that man was _dangerously_ good at reading people. He filed that information away for later as a sort of warning to himself never to lie to the soldier.

"A.I.M could've done it, but they've never gone after the kid before." Tony admitted slowly. "And all of his tech-using villains are locked up – maybe they could've had a guy on the outside do it for them? But it's not like your everyday street thug has that kind of knowhow…."

"I think it's even simpler than that. You said yourself that only you and Pepper know about the back-door."

Tony's eyes widened. "Oh no…."

Cap nodded grimly. "You've got a mole in the system. There is one criminal currently missing from Ryker's that Spider-Man hasn't been able to catch yet. He's a master of impersonation and works for the Green Goblin."

Tony had frozen in place, letting the information organize itself in his brain into a horrible reality. How could he not have seen this? It stared him in the face.

"_Chamaeleon_." He hissed.


	5. Chapter 5: Night Watch

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 5**

Tony's mind whirled as little pieces of information it had unconsciously gathered rapidly began to piece together. Osborn's hatred of Spider-Man was fanatical and he would do absolutely anything to hurt him or those close to him, and he wasn't above playing dirty to do it. Chamaeleon was an expert at impersonating people, but his gender rendered him incapable of impersonating a woman – he could only mimic men. And he could mimic any male target he was given.

At some point he must've impersonated Tony and gone right up to Pepper with a seemingly innocent question about how secure and hidden the back-door in his technology was in the face of a master hacker. Pepper, in all her innocence, would've no doubt told him ways an expert could trick the system and find the back-door. Chameleon could've easily hired a skilled hacker right off the streets or even from Hammer Industries, a rival of Stark's own company.

Tony swore creatively and tried to swing a vicious punch at the silent Quinjet next to him, but Cap deftly caught the arm and stopped it mid-swing.

"Whoa, whoa. Easy there, killer. Busted knuckles aren't fun and that poor Quinjet hasn't done anything to you to warrant an unprovoked attack." He said with a hint of dry humor in his tone while managing to keep an undercurrent of soothing in his voice.

He kept a hold on the inventor's arm until the angry fire in his eyes simmered down somewhat. Then the arm lowered of its own accord. Tony still looked righteously ticked off and ready to strangle someone, but he was at least managing his own anger now – to some extent anyway.

Cap noticed the fists clenched at Tony's side and smirked. There was an easy remedy for that pent up frustration. He raised a hand as though to block a blow and gestured with the other at Tony. Without any sort of warning the inventor swung a mean right hook at the soldier that was easily blocked.

"Better?" Cap asked, resuming his previously relaxed stance.

"Yeah. Thanks." Tony smiled wanly, shaking his aching hand out. He winced and mouthed out the word "Ow" with an expressive grimace.

Galvatron watched this bizarre contretemps with no small amount of shock and surprise. Just a sentence or two from the soldier had calmed down a man who had been ready to attack his own vehicle in his rage and who would have unintentionally hurt himself by doing so. Then he had helped relieve some of that bottled up fury by purposefully letting Stark attack him, allowing him to physically vent his frustrations at a target. That was a strategy many gladiators and miners had used – a strategy he had himself had often used, before the War and during it.

This man never failed to surprise him.

"Now, let's go see if we can get a word with Pepper. Alright?" The soldier continued, his tone a little lighter than before but still inflected with subtle nuances of reassurance and soothing.

Tony nodded. "Yeah. She'll have answers for us. This is a question we need to ask her in person though. Go get your bike and I'll get my armor. Meet me in five in the street outside."

"You got it."

Cap made his way back to the lift in a controlled sprint. In moments he was gone. Tony began to make his way inside the Quinjet where he stored a spare set of armor, but he hesitated right before stepping onto the ramp. He looked up to see a horribly confused mech plainly mentally debating what to do and who exactly this Chamaeleon guy was supposed to be and why he had two Avengers worked up.

"Hey, you can come with if you want. You strike me as the type to get bored real quick." Tony offered. "It's just a quick little visit before the Tower shuts down for the night and everybody goes home. It'll just be a short trip."

The mech readily accepted, reverting to vehicle mode and positioning himself on the launch pad. He would vehemently deny this until the day his spark went dark for good, but zipping through the water of the river was actually kind of fun. Just the sensation of the cool water rushing over his armor was strangely soothing yet invigorating.

Stark hopped into the Quinjet and armored up. When he finished he stepped back out in a suit of red and silver. It was a bit lighter than his usual armor but it was still outfitted with various weapons and gadgets should the need for them arise.

"You know where Stark Tower is, right?" He asked. Then he realized he already had the answer to that and mentally slapped himself. "No, wait, never mind, ignore that. Yes you do. Come on then."

He activated the armor's propulsion systems and shot out of the tunnel at top speed. Seconds later a grey and purple alien fighter jet followed him out at his side, purple lateral lines offering a small amount of light into the rapidly darkening waters of the river as the sun set in the distance.

They emerged from the river and flew around to the street in front of the Mansion where the soldier waited for them with his motorcycle idling, a brown leather riding jacket over his casual civilian clothing. He looked up, spotted them, and took off down the street.

Above him, Iron Man flew alongside the dark aircraft, mere inches away from the being who had once ordered him abducted. He was using his Arc Light to jokingly mess with Galvatron, flashing the chest light on and off in silly Morse code messages that the aircraft returned rather clumsily.

Such a heart-warming sight was enough to make the soldier below smile broadly. This mech was no longer Megatron in any way. He hadn't needed any more proof after the mech's stunt at Ryker's but there it was, more proof, in sky above him.

Pepper was gathering her things out of her office when she spotted two lights coming towards the Tower from the sky, one dark purple and the other bright bluish-white. She knew that the latter was undoubtedly Tony in his armor, but the other one she couldn't place, and with it being dark out she couldn't discern the form of the owner at its current distance. As it drew nearer however she tensed instinctively.

Iron Man flew up to the window and pointed down with a single gauntleted finger. Then the Bluetooth in her ear chimed as it received a message:

[Pep? We need to talk. Can you meet us down in the lobby for a minute or two?]

She continued to stare apprehensively at the great dark form outside the window, fear battling against fascination in her eyes. "Ah, sure I guess. I'll be down in a second, okay?"

[Thanks. This'll be quick – I promise.]

Pepper finished gathering her things and headed out into the hallway and into the elevator. After a few moments she was dropped off at ground level and made her way to the lobby where Stark was waiting for her with Cap. Outside on the road sat the dark aircraft with the purple lights. A sudden light noise in her Bluetooth told her the machine had rather impolitely hacked into it in order to listen in on the conversation.

"Sorry for this random visit, Pep." Tony apologized. "But did I come by at any point recently and ask about how secure that hidden back-door in my tech is, specifically the tech I implemented at Ryker's?" He looked at her intently.

Pepper thought back for a moment. "Actually, yeah you did. Just last week. I found it weird because you were so certain that the back-door was really well hidden and secure against virtually any type of hacker. Why?"

"We have a pretty good reason to believe that wasn't really Tony." Cap said. "We believe it was Chamaeleon. That near break-out at Ryker's may have been caused by Goblin and Chamaeleon working together with some outside tech help."

"That we have yet to identify." Tony added in.

Pepper stared at both men for about ten seconds as she took this in. She looked out the revolving doors to watch the alien jet for any reaction to this, but other than a somewhat thoughtful sounding hum from the engine that she picked up over the Bluetooth there was nothing.

Tony followed her glance, a grin erupting on his face. "Oh, yeah – him. Sorry we couldn't introduce you earlier, but we were kind of busy integrating him, informing S.H.I.E.L.D about him, and preventing a prison break-out. Pepper – Galvatron." He introduced. "Galv, this is Pepper, the greatest assistant a CEO could ever ask for."

Outside, the alien jet flashed its purple lines twice in greeting while giving a short "Hello" over the hacked Bluetooth. Despite his subtle efforts to alter his voice she recognized it in a flash. Her little briefcase dropped to the floor.

"Tony, that's –!" She hissed, whirling on him.

"I know, I know. But he's _different_, Pep! At Ryker's he willingly took a beating from Sandman to buy time for Spidey to get away and contact the Avengers. He's nothing like he was before and he was sent here to help us." Tony defended.

"By a giant omnipotent robotic being that can turn into a planet, but that's beside the point here, and I'd be lying if I said that was the full story." Cap smiled. "It was less him being 'ordered' here and more the aforementioned being simply playing to his own desire for 'punishment' for his – ah – less than commendable actions."

[If it can even be called 'punishment' as such in the first place.] Galvatron stated. [This is simply a means of paying back for all the trouble I caused.]

Pepper nodded slowly. She still looked tense but she didn't look nearly as apprehensive any longer. Now she looked more fascinated. Ratchet was a fairly well-known ally of the Avengers, but having the former leader of the Decepticons on their team? That was bound to cause government and public relations to be…._tense_ for a while.

She brought her mind out of her ruminations with a nod. "Well, if that's all you needed me for, I should be heading home. It's been a long day, and I _do_ have work tomorrow since _someone_ is too busy out playing superhero to run his own company most of the time. Goodnight guys. Stay safe."

Both men watched her walk out the doors and past the great dark vehicle sitting outside. Just for a moment she paused to look at him with her sharp green eyes, a thoughtful expression on her face. In vehicle mode it was difficult for him to react physically to his sudden urge to shrink back from her piercing emerald gaze. Then she passed on towards her own vehicle and he relaxed when the car peeled out and into the street.

Tony and Steve came out a few moments later, the former with a smug grin on his face and the latter with a smile.

"Buddy, I do _not_ blame you for being scared of her." The inventor said, his grin widening.

The vehicle snorted derisively. "Scared? Hardly." Then he saw the soldier giving him a quizzical look and remembered his own warning to himself to never lie to the man's face. "Ah, maybe a little….taken aback, I suppose. But how would you even know if I was?"

"My armor can detect your electro-magnetic field. It shrank closer to your body when she looked you over. Ratchet told me that kind of reaction happens only when a mech or femme is nervous or at the least uneasy. Trust me, man – if you can handle Pepper you can handle anyone." Tony explained. "Now let's get back home. I got a mole to track down and a hacker to find."

With a loud roar the armored inventor shot off into the sky, leaving his two friends to bolt after him.

Sleep wasn't exactly required by a Cybertronian. The only times they went into brief power downs or recharge states was to either conserve power or to allow internal repair systems to work more efficiently. As such they were not physically bogged down by the night cycles of any alien planet they happened to find themselves on and could function just as well during the night as they did during the day.

The Avengers, despite being bogged down by day/night cycles like typical diurnal creatures, always had a night watch where one or two of their members acted as sentries around the Mansion in case alerts came in over the police frequency and no one member was always stuck on night watch – they traded out to be fair.

To say that a former miner-turned-gladiator-turned-warlord got bored easily was probably a massive understatement. On receiving a go ahead from Cap he had flown back out into the city on patrol in the hopes of finding something to interest him. New York was a large metropolis and he had plenty of areas to search.

What exactly led him to remain in the Midtown area he couldn't say, but he soon found himself wandering in the direction of Wasp's penthouse where the Autobot's human allies currently stilled stayed. His mind flashed unwillingly back to the town of Jasper – its leveled buildings, the desolated landscape. He'd destroyed an entire town of innocents in a show of power.

And he'd been guilty of similar actions on Cybertron as well. But had they truly been _his_ actions in the first place?

A familiar voice in his head asked gently: '_Is that what troubles you, child? Not knowing whether your actions were really your own?'_

Inwardly the mech sighed. It was no use lying to him. Under normal circumstances he would have snarled at Primus to leave him alone, but at this particular moment he relished the psychic company and the soft warmth in his spark.

'_I suppose you could ask whether anyone's actions are ever truly their own in the grand scheme of things. One is always influenced by the words and actions of those above them, even if only marginally. While one develops an opinion or worldview of their own, such opinions are almost always influenced by the words or beliefs of others. I have always done my best to guide my creations, but such a feat is difficult when so few will listen to me, which is why I need direct assistance in the form of a Prime.'_

"Then why couldn't you have helped stop the War in the first place?" Galvatron hissed. "You could have just snuffed me out and stopped it before it ever even started."

'_I am many things, child. But a murderer is not one of them.'_ Primus retorted sharply, a just barely detectable amount of shock in his voice. He clearly considered the mere notion of such an act as abhorrent. '_And in a sense the War was necessary.'_

"_Necessary?!_" Galvatron sputtered in disbelief. "The deaths of billions, you being forced into stasis lock to repair the damage done to you, almost losing your Prime multiple times due to my actions on Earth and Cybertron – it was _necessary?!_ Are you completely _mad_?!" His voice nearly rose to a scream.

'_I said the War, not the results of it. I believe in freedom of will, freedom of choice, and that accursed caste system allowed for neither, but only drastic action could dissolve its paralytic and iron grip on your society. Orion had the knowledge and the integrity. You had the motivations and the sheer force of will to back up your arguments. Together you stood a better chance of being heard than if you had acted alone.'_

Galvatron fell silent as he took in this information. From that it sounded like Primus had purposefully orchestrated their first meeting in a rather subtle-yet-not-subtle way. He had seen them as the perfect task force to deal with the issue.

'_And I will alleviate your fears. Your actions were not your own from the moment you stepped into the presence of the High Council. Unicron saw you as an easy target to manipulate – yes, even more manipulatable than Starscream – and began influencing you covertly in order to harm Optimus and through him, me. It was your – ah, shall we say volatile? – nature that made him target you._'

A dead weight seemed to lift from the mech's spark, relief flooding into it. He was still guilty of ending billions of lives, there was no two ways of looking at that, but it gave him some semblance of consolation knowing his actions hadn't really been his own. They had been the actions of the Chaos-Bringer.

However, there was one thing that didn't make sense to him. How exactly could a god, a force of reality itself, be hurt?

'_Poison comes in many forms, and not all are physical. You know that Unicron thrives off conflict and strife, yes? Knowing that, what do you think I thrive off of?_'

"Peace. Compassion."

'_Indeed. Where Unicron grows stronger with conflict, I grow stronger with peace. And so the best way to weaken me is to spread conflict. The poison that infected me was not poison in the literal sense, in it that no one actually injected anything toxic into me. It was warfare itself that infected my spark – constant conflict that I was helpless to stop. With their minds and sparks so altered by hate it was impossible for me to be heard. But thankfully one bright spark continued to listen, steadfastly believing peace was possible.'_

"Optimus." Galvatron murmured. Now he understood why the mech had tried so hard to get the War to stop, to get _him_ to stop. He had been trying to keep the core from going into stasis. He had been trying to make sure Unicron couldn't grow any stronger even while in stasis.

'_Precisely. And I will also tell you this: it does not take a Matrix to make a Prime, Galvatron. No, it is the belief that no matter how dark or dire the times there will always be hope, the knowledge that the fire of hope can never be extinguished._ _That is what makes a Prime._'

Sensing he had soothed the mech as much as he possibly could, the warm presence in Galvatron's spark faded, telling him his psychic counsellor had left him for now. But oddly some of the warmth remained – a reminder that he was never truly alone no matter what happened. He would be there for him if he needed him.

At some point during the conversation he had alighted atop a seemingly random building and stood staring out at the city ablaze with lights and activity even at this hour of the night. New York really was the "City That Never Slept".

A soft noise behind him made the mech turn to see the cause of it. He was stunned to see Jack standing there staring up at him in surprise. There were dark circles under his blue-grey eyes, but he didn't behave like he was exhausted. And he definitely didn't look scared to see him.

The "random" building he was situated atop was apparently the building that held Wasp's penthouse apartment. Some unconscious thought or need had led him here during the course of his conversation, probably his brief flashback to the decimated town of Jasper, Nevada.

"What are you doing up? Shouldn't you be asleep?" Galvatron asked.

Jack shrugged. "It's not _that_ late at night, and I've been busy studying for a pre-calculus test tomorrow. I just came up here because I heard someone shouting and got worried. Who was shouting? Do you know?"

Galvatron winced, guilt lacing through him. He'd managed to agitate the teen needlessly and had interrupted him in his studies. "I'm afraid that was me. I was having a rather…heated discussion with….someone. About my past actions."

"Whether or not they were yours?"

He stared at the teen in undisguised shock. Humans either had an uncanny ability to read others like an open book or Cybertronians were absolutely horrid at hiding their thoughts or emotions from others. Or maybe a little of both. Jack was just as good at the reading people game as Cap. That a _teenager_ was so skilled at that was…a little disconcerting to him, albeit impressive overall.

He nodded slowly. "Yes."

"And were they?"

"No. But that does not exactly change things, does it?" He sighed ruefully. "I still feel as though I am the one responsible because _I_ was the one to carry out all of those…misdeeds. I was completely aware of what I was doing and couldn't stop."

Jack gave him a strange, knowing look through his blue-grey eyes. "_Couldn't_. Not _wouldn't_. It seems like a minor thing, but that's a _huge_ difference, Galvatron. You knew what you were doing was wrong but some outside force kept twisting your actions – twisting you into someone else, someone who wasn't _you_."

The mech shuttered his red optics. Images of Autobots dying at his feet, of innocents running and being mercilessly gunned down by himself and by his soldiers, of frightened sparklings in wide-eyed terror as their lives were cut drastically short, all flashed through his mind.

Jack observed the former Decepticon leader kneeling down near the edge of the rooftop, his red optics shut. He observed something tiny flash in the reflected light of the city below about half way between his head and the rooftop before vanishing in the darkness. He realized in an instant what he had just seen.

A tear. Galvatron had just shed a single tear in anguish over all the pain and suffering he had caused while fully aware of it and unable to stop.

Agent Hill was wrong about him in every aspect – dead wrong. This was no reformed monster he was looking at, nor a sly warlord putting on an act. This was a mech who was horribly traumatized and emotionally withering away as his own memory banks assaulted him remorselessly, reminding him of his foul actions night and day. This was a mech who desperately needed comforting from someone other than Primus, Optimus or an Avenger.

Jack silently approached the mech and reached out with one hand, laying it on Galvatron's heel strut. He was just barely able to feel the mech trembling imperceptibly, but it slowly died down thanks to the simple touch. He kept his hand there for a good minute to make sure he was alright.

Seeing such a strong, forceful personality at his weakest was something he hadn't thought he'd ever witness. And for Galvatron, letting someone see him at his weakest was probably extremely difficult as he was normally so imposing and strong. Showing weakness had been the one thing he had never been able to afford while in command of the Decepticons – weakness implied an inability to lead, and Decepticons constantly vied for command of the ranks and the power such a position held.

"Why? Why be so kind to me? I tried to have you killed." Galvatron asked hoarsely. "You and your two friends. I used you as leverage. I _destroyed_ your city, your home."

"Humans don't have the luxury of holding grudges for as long as your species can. We're lucky if we hit a hundred. Typically we find it better to forgive and forget and then move on with our lives. 'Water under the bridge' as we like to say." Jack answered simply.

Galvatron looked at him. He sighed, getting up from his knelt position: "If only it were that simple…."

He transformed wordlessly and headed back into the city. Jack remained on the rooftop gazing after him until his dark form was out of visible range. With a shake of his head he headed back inside to finish his studies. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind kept returning to the scarred mech wandering the skies above the city, searching for anything to distract him from the torture chamber that was his own mind.

Galvatron had no idea how long he flew above the city. Having had his chronometer damaged by Unicron during his forced reactivation, he was unable to accurately gauge the passage of time any longer. Many of his internal systems had also been damaged and no longer functioned properly (or at all, like his weapons systems), but the damaged chronometer he saw as just as cruel as his physical reformatting.

Only when he received a warning that he was low on energy did he land again to rest. Where he was he didn't really know offhand, but examination of his surroundings revealed he was fairly close to the Xavier Institute on top of a large office building – he could make out the Institute in the distance. Most of the windows were dark but a few remained lit.

His comm. unit pinged as someone contacted him. "Yes?"

[Jarvis and Ratchet just got a warning regarding your fuel levels. If it's all the same to you I'd rather _not_ have the Doc bite my head off for letting you keel over into stasis lock due to lack of energy.]

Galvatron didn't bother asking why the slag Stark was still awake when he wasn't one of the two Avengers on night watch. Stark was well known for tinkering and working well into the night even if it meant a scolding from Cap and Jarvis and quite possibly Pepper, too.

"Very well." He conceded. "On one condition." He added slyly.

[Eh?] He could almost envision Stark perking up in surprise at his words. Why would he be putting a condition on his own well-being?

"_I_ will go and refuel if _you_ get some much needed rest. Deal?"

Stark broke out laughing. This mech really knew how to get a point across. His deal pretty much amounted to this: if he didn't get some sleep, he wouldn't restock on energy. It almost sounded like a friendly threat merged with a challenge.

[Alright, _nanny-bot_. Deal. See you in the morning.] There was a faintly discernable yawn in his voice as he replied. Then….

_THUNK_

Galvatron couldn't suppress a smile and an amused snort at the sound of the inventor's head hitting the table as he finally and very abruptly crashed for the night. Idly he wondered if his teammates had found him like that in the past – passed out at his worktable. A strangely endearing image of one of the night watchers dropping in on the dozing inventor and covering him with a blanket before going back to their duty flashed through his mind for the briefest moment, only serving to make his smile widen.

His short few words with Stark and the funny end result had helped to lift his mood significantly. Feeling lightened inside, he contacted Ratchet for a groundbridge to Hangar E. Behind him the familiar swirling turquoise vortex whirled open. With one last look over the city he vanished inside, the portal snapping shut behind him.

He stepped into Hangar E wordlessly, looking around at the small area the Autobots had called home for a while. It was small, much smaller than their original base, but it was very well organized, and also strangely empty. Only Ratchet was there in the hangar. At least he thought it was only Ratchet.

A door on the second story of the hangar swung open and a familiar dark-skinned, neatly dressed federal liaison stood framed in the doorway staring at him, eyes a little wide and his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Sweet Lady Liberty! The Avengers told me you'd undergone physical reformatting, but I didn't expect it was this extensive!" Fowler said in mild shock. "I barely recognize you!"

Ratchet tossed him a warning glance from his console. That physical reformatting was a point of shame for the mech since it served as a reminder of his blunder. That reformatting was Unicron's version of a curse, his way of saying he would never be free of him.

Of course, only Galvatron knew the curse went far deeper than mere physical appearance. Right before Primus had shot Unicron out of his body, the Chaos-Bringer had done something even worse to him – he had flat out cursed his very spark, spiritually severing him and telling him he would never be able to find true peace in this life or rejoin his fellow Cybertronians in the Allspark and find it there.

'_You will never know peace!_' He had hissed at him. Then everything had gone black. Only the residual warmth of Primus in his spark told him that finding peace was not a lost cause, and that he would help him find it.

"It's alright Ratchet." Fowler's comment wasn't an insult at all – he was just surprised, and that was understandable. This was his first time seeing him like this. He had to expect comments of a similar nature from those who had seen him before with no such physical alterations.

Fowler leaned casually on the rails and asked: "So? What brings you here?"

"Refueling. I was out scouting New York for a considerable length of time, and Stark warned me I had better do so or risk an angry Ratchet in consequence." He replied with a very faint smile. "But I managed to cut a deal with him and he's currently asleep at his worktable thanks to it."

Fowler cracked a grin. "I like the new you a _lot_ better than the old you. You sure you aren't part medic?"

Ratchet snorted: "Puh-lease. If he even had a single line of medic programing in him he wouldn't have required someone to _order him_ to refuel." He addressed Galvatron as he turned away from his console, shaking his head in wry amusement. "Honestly Galvatron, you're just as bad as Optimus."

He made his way to the other end of the hangar and came back with a large hypodermic needle containing glowing blue liquid. Galvatron held out an arm and let the old medic inject the precious fuel into an exposed line.

And just like that the grey and purple mech vanished back out into the night sky of New York through another groundbridge.

Ratchet stared at the portal with knowing sadness in his optics before shutting it and returning to his work.


	6. Chapter 6: Hunt

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 6**

Fowler had noticed the medic's sad expression as Galvatron had disappeared into the groundbridge and wondered whether he should ask about it. It was pretty obvious he knew something about the mech that was saddening to him, but what exactly that something was was a mystery to the federal liaison.

Getting Ratchet agitated was a pretty easy feat. All you had to do was mess with his stuff. But getting him upset? That took something downright heart-breaking – like the destruction of the original Omega Lock on Cybertron by his own leader's hands, or the loss of Cliffjumper.

"Doc? Is…is something wrong?" He hesitantly asked, his usual bluster gone from his voice. His chocolate brown eyes betrayed worry.

At his console, Ratchet sighed wearily, unsure whether to reply or not. Finally he decided he had better reply regardless of the liaison's opinions on the "supernatural". Fowler was typically a pretty open-minded man when it came to Cybertronians – he'd readily accepted the existence of Unicron and Primus, after all – so perhaps he would accept what he had to say.

He pulled up the results of his scans of Galvatron that he'd taken after his stunt at Ryker's. Fowler looked at them, not quite understanding what all of it meant. He was a liaison, not a scientist. Maybe Jane or June would know what all those numbers and stuff meant, but not him. However, the one thing he could make out with relative certainty was a reading he'd actually seen before: energy readings from a spark.

"What about it?" Fowler pressed him, confusion replacing the worry in his eyes.

Ratchet then pulled up the energy readings from a member of Team Prime – Wheeljack. He remained silent and allowed Fowler to notice the discrepancies between the two.

"Something's wrong with it?" Fowler guessed accurately, though confusion still swam in his eyes. He didn't know exactly _what_ was wrong with it, but he could see there _was_ something wrong with it. Was that was what making Ratchet so upset?

"Yes, Agent Fowler. Something _is_ wrong with Galvatron's spark, and it's not something I've ever encountered before in my life. I've only read about it in old myths and legends. As I scientist I never once paid those old tales any mind. And yet here I am looking a so-called 'myth' in the face." Ratchet explained, not taking his blue optics off the console screen.

Ratchet's usually haughty tone and mannerisms when explaining matters scientific was gone, replaced instead by a softer, sadder voice that almost hurt to listen to.

Agent Fowler leaned forwards on the rail in a silent demand for him to continue.

"His spark has been severed."

The liaison's earlier confusion returned a hundred fold. Severed literally meant "cut". From what federal liaison knew about the mechanical aliens and their anatomy, a spark acted as a Cybertronian's power source, like the way a heart acted for a human. It was the thing that kept them online and pumped Energon through their bodies, but it was also more poetic and spiritual than that. In effect, a spark was a Cybertronian's soul or life force condensed into a little ball of energy in their chests. It was what made them who they were – their very essence.

How exactly had it been "cut"? Cut as in literally cut (which didn't really sound likely to him) or cut as in "cut off" from something?

"Meaning?" He asked, unconsciously not liking where this was headed.

Ratchet turned his attention away from his console to address the man directly. He began slowly:

"Before I go into any detail regarding a severed spark, I need to clarify something for you before I explain what that means. Cybertronian beliefs regarding termination are not really religious in any sense of the term. Rather, such beliefs are more or less based on proven fact and observation. It's a law of physics that energy and matter can't simply vanish – it has to go somewhere or have its state altered for it to remain scientifically 'legal'."

"When a mech or femme perishes, their spark doesn't just vanish, although that is how it seems to us – it appears to extinguish. What happens in actuality is that it returns to where it came from in the first place – the Allspark, which _is_ a physical entity in it that it can be contained like any other form of energy. It's not a religious belief in the slightest – it's merely science with a touch of superstition and mysticism."

Fowler nodded as listened.

"Every Cybertronian spark starts off there and eventually ends up there again in a cycle – not unlike the Hindu concept of reincarnation, in fact. Each and every one of us is perpetually linked to it, and we all must return to it at some point, willingly or unwillingly, though most of the time it is _un_willingly."

Ratchet frowned as he got to the point: "A severed spark is _physically_ _unable_ to merge with the Allspark. If Galvatron were to perish in combat, his spark, and in effect his consciousness, would be stuck in a perpetual limbo-like state for eternity – quite literally trapped between life and death, unable to return to the source, but also unable to return to his own body."

Fowler's jaw dropped slightly in shock and no small amount of horror. Then his expression softened to one of utter pity. "Poor guy…Is there any way to reverse it?"

Ratchet shook his head. "None of the old stories mentioned a 'cure' for a severed spark, at least not in the immediate sense. My guess is that only direct intervention and action from Primus himself can reverse the effects, which leads me to believe such corrective action may already be underway." He pointed to a reading on the screen. "However, one as badly severed as Galvatron's would take even _him_ some time to heal."

The liaison's heart ached in due sympathy for the mech. Being severed pretty much translated to being unable to rest in peace, and unable to start life over again. Even a non-scientific, non-spiritualistic human such as himself could appreciate how appalling such an act was on the part of Unicron. He'd literally condemned Galvatron to a kind of un-death state.

"….Should we tell the Avengers about this?" Fowler asked quietly.

The old medic nodded gently. "I think it would be for the best in terms of a cautionary measure, yes. But I think it's best for now if we simply let Galvatron be for a while, if for no other reason than to let Primus work on him uninterrupted. He's powerful yes, but a resynchronization takes time, and he's going to need every second he can get with a severing case this bad."

"Yeah." Fowler agreed, sighing. "You're probably right."

Galvatron continued to patrol the skies of New York dutifully. Incapable of experiencing the passage of time himself, only the faint yellowish-gold glow of the sun's light peeking over the horizon told him he had been patrolling the entire night.

As the sun rose up above the horizon, heralding the dawn of another day on the alien planet he was slowly beginning to see as a home away from home, Galvatron made his way back to the subterranean launch bay hidden beneath Avengers Mansion, slipping in through the cool water of the river and into the dry area.

The launch bay itself was peacefully silent with only the rush of water breaking the stillness. Curiosity made him check the armory where Stark's worktable was and was unsurprised to find the man fast asleep. At some point during the night one of his team mates had draped a blanket over him. Considering how late he'd been up he deemed it best to not wake him until later or until something happened that required his attention.

At that moment the two night watchers entered the launch bay, each offering him a friendly wave and smile – Vision and Ant-Man.

"Were you out _all night_?" Ant-Man demanded.

"…More or less." He answered, electing not to tell them about his conversations with Primus and Jack or his curse. "Did I miss anything?"

Vision shook his head. "Not really. We intercepted a police transmission from a patrol officer in Hell's Kitchen about a Hand sighting, but that area is effectively Daredevil's territory and he dealt with it summarily. He only calls on allies if he finds himself very much in over his head. Daredevil is a capable fighter even without his sight."

"I don't doubt it. If Soundwave's pilfered intelligence was accurate, Daredevil was the man to mentor Prowl in sightless combat. From what I saw of Prowl on Cybertron such training clearly paid off in folds."

Ant-Man nodded concurringly. "We also intercepted a call about Maggia activity, but they were gone long before anyone got there. Two Maggia thugs were actually found dead at the scene absolutely riddled with bullet wounds, while a third managed to survive and was taken to a nearby hospital in critical condition."

Galvatron's knowledge of the Maggia came directly from Soundwave's persistent virtual snooping. They were an international crime syndicate with connections in virtually every continent, dealing anything from drugs to weapons to arcane artifacts. Hearing that two had been killed didn't exactly fill him with grief. They were no better than criminal organizations on Cybertron.

"Who was responsible?" He asked. "A rival faction?"

"Investigators suspect they are victims of the vigilante that has been systematically and brutally attacking individuals associated with the Maggia or the criminal underworld in general – people have begun calling him the 'Punisher' due to his extreme acts." Vision clarified.

So the Punisher wasn't a villain like he'd thought. He was a vigilante who took the law into his own hands in the most extreme way. He was an example of what would happen if a hero went too far in his acts against criminal activity, becoming judge, jury, and executioner all at once. He was an example of what _not_ to do, an example of what a "hero" might become if they failed to exercise restraint and mercy.

"Where is everyone else?"

"Up and about in the Mansion. Tony's the only one still asleep actually, but we typically don't wake him up until we're sure he's had a solid six hours. From what Jarvis told us he crashed about midnight – after a communication with you that he initiated." Ant-Man said, sounding mildly curious.

"The result of a deal I made with him." Galvatron smirked. "If he agreed to get some rest, I would refuel and save him (and honestly, myself) a scolding from Ratchet. He scolded me anyway."

Ant-Man grinned up at him. He was starting to see why pre-War Optimus had gotten along so well with this mech. He was forceful and a little bit sneaky and sly, but when it came down to it he really was a good person, willing to put the needs of others above his own if it meant a positive result as a whole.

So what in the world had happened to twist and warp such a protective personality so vastly out of shape? Would they ever find out? Did he even know the answer to that question himself? Or did he, and was he keeping it from them?

A few hours passed without incident. Tony was woken up about eight o'clock by Jarvis with the aid of an obnoxious alarm app he'd downloaded, this rude awakening happening about two hours after the night watchers' conversation with Galvatron in the sub-level launch bay. After a cup of coffee he was his usual chatty, active self and back at his task of tracking down Chamaeleon and his outside tech help.

That was, until a call from Fury came in about an hour later.

Everyone gathered in the Assembly Hall to hear what the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D was going to order them to do this time. As a general rule of thumb, Fury only called when there as a major issue or he needed something taken care of that his organization couldn't accomplish for one reason or another.

"What now?" Hulk growled.

Fury frowned at him before ultimately deciding to ignore him and proceed: "I'm certain all of you remember the massive multi-prison break out that happened a while ago. One of the prisoners of the defunct Vault is still at large and intelligence suggests the prisoner is hiding in the Canadian wilderness."

"Since it's in Canada, you'll be having someone help you out - someone who knows the area and terrain. Wolverine will be meeting you on the outskirts of Saguenay in Quebec."

"What prisoner are we even looking for?" Wasp demanded.

Fury's image went smaller and a holographic dossier file appeared. It showed a massive grey-ish white furry beast that stood about seven and a half feet, had razor-sharp clawed hands and feet, horns, and a maw full of fangs. It was a beast right out of a nightmare. In big print on the top there was a designation: _Wendigo_.

"Wait, we're looking for a creature of Canadian folklore?" Cap asked. A Wendigo was supposed to be what a person turned into if they ate the flesh of another human and were cursed by the gods of Canadian myth, but Fury was making it sound like this was some sort of experiment gone wrong.

Fury tilted his head side to side as though debating how to reply to that. He hesitated and then began: "Sort of. The story is that a hiker fell under a mystical curse somehow, but we don't know whether or not to actually believe that even with the research we've done on the thing. For all we know this guy is just a mutant gone wild."

"Is there anything we must be wary of with this beast?" Thor asked.

"Yeah. Wendigo's condition is viral – contagious. If he bites you the condition is passed to the victim, resulting in another lesser-strength Wendigo. Fortunately there _is_ an antidote for it that we put in Logan's possession. He'll pass it out to each of you once you rendezvous with him."

Despite the relatively simple – albeit risky – mission parameters everyone had the sense of Fury holding something back from them. Something important. But why would Fury hold important information back from them if it might impede their mission?

"Alright. If you could provide coordinates we can use Tony's mini-bridge to get there. It would be faster." Cap requested. "Galv'll have to use Ratchet's bridge since Tony built his to our scale, unfortunately."

Fury nodded and a set of geographic coordinates dutifully appeared on the screen long enough for the inventor to download them and then send them on to the Autobot medic. Then the hologram blinked out of existence.

"Prep your gear, people. Apparently we're going monster hunting." Cap stated grimly.

Wolverine paced around his motorcycle impatiently on the outskirts of Saguenay, his enhanced senses picking up traces of the Wendigo brought to him on a sharp and strong wind. Since the scent came on the wind he didn't have any real idea how far away it was, much less what its movements and activities were.

He turned when two familiar green portals yawned open a little ways down the deserted road. Out of one came the Avengers and out of the other came a large grey and black mech with red optics and muddy brown additions to his armor.

Both of them exchanged surprised looks as they stared at each other for a moment or two. Then they exchanged I-think-we-do-business looks, after which Wolverine gave a toothy smile that showed plain as day he was going to get along with him just fine.

"Guess Fury called in the cavalry for this little job." Logan noted in his low growl-y voice. "I just asked for a little help – I didn't ask for an entire freakin' army, but I guess that's just because of how dangerous this thing is supposed to be. Fury never takes chances."

He knelt down to rummage through a large duffel bag, grabbing a bunch of hypodermic needles filled with green liquid and tossing a few to each Avenger along with what looked like tranquilizer pistols. He didn't toss Galvatron or Vision either item – their mechanical nature rendered them immune to the biological disease the Wendigo spread via its bites. However, Logan did keep a few to himself in case of a "worst case scenario" where everyone wound up infected and he, Galvatron and Vision would be the only ones left to cure the victims.

"Alright. Let's go." He growled. "Groups of two. Newbie, you're with me." He waggled a finger at the mech.

The mech nodded acceptance and went over to him. Logan gave him a quick once-over before jogging off into the snowy woods, his partner's long strides allowing him to keep up easily. Wolverine's desire to have him as a partner came from his desire to see what he was capable of, as well as keep him safe. He had no weapons to defend himself with, and using his holo-form would endanger him – leave him vulnerable.

"Keep your eyes peeled for movement. This thing moves fast and it'll blend with the snow." He warned.

Galvatron nodded and adjusted the sensitivity of his audial receptors and optics. He was grateful Unicron hadn't damaged them as he had his many other systems. He was no expert tracker like the man at his heels was, but at the very least he could be of _some_ practical use.

"So." Wolverine started, idly sniffing at the air. "If you aren't going by Megatron anymore, what are you going by? I'd continue to call you newbie, but that'd probably not be the nicest thing."

"Galvatron."

Wolverine nodded and went back to tracking. Despite what most people thought of him the man was decently educated and saw how suitable such a name was for the reformed mech. His name literally stemmed from the word "galvanize" which meant to shock or excite someone, typically into taking action. How very accurate that was!

Just as Galvatron was about to step forward the man held a hand out for him not to move. "What?"

"Tracks." Wolverine clarified. "Look."

Indeed, in the very place the mech had been about to put his foot down was a set of tracks that were not human in appearance. They were large, had claw tips and the back heel imprint was missing, showing the creature walked oddly on the front portion of its feet rather than the flat-footed way of most land animals.

"The creature we are tracking?" Galvatron guessed, kneeling down to examine it more closely.

Wolverine nodded once and used a single retracted claw to pick up a small clump of snow from the center of the print. He sniffed it a few times to make certain. Then he lifted his gaze to follow a line of tracks that led ever deeper into the woods and started off again.

Silently the mech sent a transmission regarding their finding to the other Avengers. Each one pinged him back, which was a relief. None of them had been attacked yet, or if they had they had taken the antidote for the rabid bite.

There was a sudden low snarl close by that resulted in Wolverine whipping around and unsheathing his claws. He glanced around in the direction the sound had come from with a low growl of his own. A flash of movement amidst the trees only made him growl louder.

With a blur of white a large form leapt out of cover and tackled Wolverine to the ground. It tried to swipe at the mutant's face with its claws, but Logan reacted like lightning, slashing at the Wendigo's claws with his own metal ones and slicing them off with one quick swipe.

The creature howled in pain and tried to sink its jaws into Wolverine's neck in revenge, using its size and greater weight to slowly overpower him. Galvatron reacted in turn, grabbing the monster in one hand and flinging it against the truck of a tree, stunning it for a few precious seconds.

"Thanks, bub." The mutant gasped as he scrambled back to his feet. "Call your friends! I'll keep it busy!"

Galvatron's look told him he didn't like the idea but he complied nonetheless, calling on the Avengers frequency for the team to rendezvous with him. Wolverine was a skilled fighter but that thing was twice his size and weight and far faster. He had to hand it to the man though – he was brave, almost foolishly so.

The Wendigo apparently was smart enough to realize what Galvatron was doing and promptly lost interest in Wolverine, instead surging at the mech in a blinding blur of white. Just as it leapt to attack he swatted it aside with his hand, sending it flying, but it recovered quickly enough and charged again.

This time it changed its tactics. Instead of aiming for his upper body which was more protected, it lunged far lower – his legs. It latched onto his right leg and sank its hideous fangs into a partially exposed fuel line, tearing into the metal and making him snarl in pain before shoving the monster off. Still-warm Energon seeped out of the wound and into the snow.

It wasn't the worst injury he'd ever sustained, but if it wasn't sealed soon he'd slowly bleed out. It was too large for his damaged repair systems to heal.

Apparently satisfied with its work, the Wendigo flew at Wolverine once more, using it's still clawed other hand to swipe open a nasty gash on the man's arm. Galvatron watched in no small amount of wonder as the wound sealed itself up in mere seconds while the mutant continued to fight off his attacker.

Cybertronians had auto-repair systems themselves but they never acted so rapidly, not even if they were fully fueled and working at optimal efficiency. Only Dark Energon allowed for such rapid healing, but it came with a horrible price.

'_So that's a healing factor. Impressive._' He thought briefly.

A loud bellow alerted them of the Avengers' arrival on scene. Hulk leapt for the Wendigo while the other Avengers surrounded the creature on all sides, boxing it in. When the creature reacted to the Hulk's persistent pounding and wheeled on him, Thor unleashed a flurry of lightning bolts to make it think twice about doing so.

Panther retracted his claws and bounded around to the creature's backside, leapt onto its back and raked his claws down its back. Bundles of white fur whisked away on the wind while red blood dripped down onto the snow. The Wendigo howled, reached behind its shoulders, and flung him off.

To most everyone's shock the ugly injuries sealed up in the same way that Logan's had. Everyone backed off.

"Oh you're kidding me! It has a healing factor?!" Hawkeye complained.

"If you'd bothered to actually read the dossier you would know about that, Clint." Cap retorted sharply, blocking a swipe from the creature.

"Yeah, so how the heck do we beat it if it just keeps healing?" Wasp demanded.

Iron Man blasted the creature in the face while he thought the problem over. The solution came to him instantly:

"The antidote! Since it worked on the Wendigo copies logic says it'll also work on the original one! It was derived from the source after all, not from one of the victims!"

Vision pointed out after using his laser on the creature: "But we used ours on the creature's victims when they ambushed us earlier!"

Wolverine slashed the claws off the Wendigo's other hand before retracting his own and sprinting towards the edge of the clearing where he'd left the duffel bag of antidote. Stark was right about the antidote working on this monster. It was a simple solution. It was easy when worded like that.

However in reality it was a lot harder than it sounded. Getting not just one but multiple clean shots off at the Wendigo was going to be the challenge since it constantly moved around. Not even the Hulk or Thor could keep it pinned for more than a few seconds at a time. Unless….

"Galvatron! Hold it down for us!" He called to him. He brought out three of the antidote filled needles and rushed over to Hawkeye. "Robin Hood here's gonna need a clear shot at this thing!"

Galvatron nodded and waited for a moment he could safely grab the Wendigo again. He got it when it tackled Thor to the ground and attempted to bite him. He lugged the monster off the Asgardian and held it fast to the snowy ground, the creature itself writhing and hissing in protest.

"Now!"

Hawkeye had already loaded one of the pistols with the antidote. He took aim and fired it into the Wendigo's neck which resulted in it screaming and writhing even more. He fired again in close to the same spot, and then once more.

Slowly the Wendigo stopped struggling and went still. It shrank in size and its bestial features receded to reveal an unconscious Caucasian man in tattered blue and grey camouflage…with a S.H.I.E.L.D insignia on the shoulder.

Wolverine snarled in disgust. "Oh you gotta be kidding me, Fury! Mystical curse my a –"

Ms. Marvel cut him off. "Why would S.H.I.E.L.D _do_ this to someone, especially one of their own? And why would Fury outright lie to us about it?"

"Because lying is that man's specialty." Hulk growled knowingly.

"We're _not_ taking this poor guy to the Raft." Iron Man said with finality. "He's no longer a threat. But when Fury comes to pick you up, Logan – give him an earful about this. When he calls us we'll do the same. Experimenting on their agents is _not_ ethical even if he volunteered."

"Oh don't worry about that. I _will_." Wolverine reassured him angrily. Then his tone softened a little. "That man needs to get to a hospital, though. There's a good one in Saguenay that'll take care of him. They'll keep Fury from gettin' his hands on him."

Galvatron tried to offer himself for the task but a simple, meaningful look from Cap convinced him otherwise. It was obvious what it mean: he was _not_ about to let an injured team mate out of his sight until he was fixed up and not slowly bleeding precious fuel into the snow.

"I'll take him." Ms. Marvel offered just as the man in the snow began to stir weakly. She knelt down and helped him to his feet, letting him lean on her while he recovered. Once he was fully aware of his surroundings she hefted him over her shoulder and took off back towards civilization.

"I will retrieve the other victims as well. Vision, would you assist me with that?" Thor asked.

Cap turned to the injured mech. "As for you." He started. "You'd better call for a 'bridge and have Ratchet seal that up before you lose any more Energon. We'll meet you back at the Mansion. Fury has some serious answering to do."

For the briefest of moments Galvatron actually pitied Director Fury. That man was about to receive the biggest verbal lashing he'd probably ever had in his life, he just knew it. Outraged Avengers were the stuff of nightmares as he well knew.

One groundbridge later and the mech was back in Hangar E. Fowler was gone, replaced by June and the three children the Autobots had protected during the War. The smallest, Rafael, was perched on the medic's console with his laptop while the other two were up on the catwalk busily chatting away. June herself appeared to be monitoring all three of them from a parallel catwalk.

When they spotted him their eyes went round in shock – all but June's. Hers went wide upon spotting the leaking wound on his leg that looked an awful lot like a bite mark to her. Where in the world had he gotten that?

"What in the…?" Ratchet gaped open-mouthed. "Galvatron, is that a _bite_ wound?" He demanded slowly. "No, you know what? Don't answer that. I don't even want to know what happened this time. Just get over here."

He obeyed silently and limped over to the single medical berth towards the back of the hangar while Ratchet got out his line welder and a few other needed materials. He handed the human nurse a smaller version of his line welder and then they both set to work. Rafael observed him worriedly through his red glasses.

"What'd you do? Tick off a grizzly bear or something?" Miko wondered curiously, leaning over the railing. Jack scowled and lightly elbowed her in the side, silencing her.

He didn't answer right away due to the stinging of the cleansing fluid and the line welders being used on the open wound. Frankly he was worried if he did answer Ratchet would bark at him to be quiet. As medics went he wasn't exactly the friendliest you'd ever find, certainly not as chatty as Knockout.

He did answer after the stinging dulled slightly. "S.H.I.E.L.D's Director gave us intelligence regarding the location of an escaped Vault prisoner. It was called the Wendigo and its bite is like a virus. When it saw me wirelessly contact the other Avengers it attacked me and, well – you can see what it did to me."

Miko's eyes widened in fascination while Jack and Rafael winced sympathetically.

"That must've hurt like crazy." Rafael said.

"So? You beat it right? How'd you do it? Stomp it into the ground? Electrocute it?" Miko demanded eagerly. Again Jack elbowed the girl to silence her. Her tactlessness was going to get her in serious trouble one day. She just didn't know when to keep her mouth shut.

"Nothing quite as dramatic as that, Miko. It's rather anti-climactic, really. We simply used the antidote given to Wolverine on it, though it needed a greater dose than its victims." Galvatron replied. "However, the result of the antidote is why everyone is currently calling Fury en masse and no doubt verbally attacking him. The 'Wendigo' turned out to be one of his own agents."

"_What?!"_ June cried, shock and outrage in her eyes, shutting off her line welder to stare up at him in disbelief. Everyone else looked stunned.

"Wait…_S.H.I.E.L.D_ made that thing?" Jack gasped. "But why? I mean, I know his organization has done some genetic testing but I never would've thought they'd use a live human test subject! That's not ethical!"

Galvatron nodded. "That's very close to what Stark said, actually – he said it wasn't ethical even if the man had volunteered. Turning someone into a rabid animal isn't ethical to start with. And from what I infer they didn't bother curing him right away. They just tossed him into a maximum security prison and continued their research as though he was nothing more than a lab rat."

He frowned and fell silent as the two healers finished up their work and set a small brace device to keep the animesh over the wound in place. Such actions reminded him eerily of Shockwave's own grayscale ethics. It appeared that humans were just as susceptible to ethical corruption as his own kind was.

"Alright. If you come back here injured in the next twenty-four hours I _will_ knock some sense into you with this." Ratchet warned, holding up a large wrench. "Am I clear?"

Galvatron managed a tiny smirk. "Perfectly. I can safely assume I'm free to go?"

Ratchet eyed him dubiously but replied in the affirmative after a moment of consideration.


	7. Chapter 7: Reflection

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 7**

"Aww! Can't he stay a little while? Please?" Miko begged. "I promise not to bug him! Please? Pretty please?"

Jack rolled his eyes while his mother did her best to stifle her disbelieving snort. Miko not bugging someone was like saying the sky wasn't blue or the sun didn't shine. It was a contradiction in it of itself. She didn't even need to be consciously bugging someone and she still would manage to bother them. Relentless pestering was practically shoehorned into her character (as was a near-constant habit of getting herself into heaps of trouble).

Rafael personally looked perfectly alright about the concept of the former Decepticon hanging around with them even if only for a few extra minutes. Jack had told him about the short conversation he'd had with him on the rooftop of the penthouse apartment the night before. He'd felt bad for him when Ratchet had told them what had happened to him on Cybertron, and that relayed conversation only served to strengthen his sympathy for him.

Previously he'd been dead scared of the large mech. But now?

Now it was honestly hard to feel anything other than pity when he looked at him.

He glanced over to see what Ratchet thought of this. The medic's expression showed exasperation directed at both parties for even considering the idea, but he also didn't look in any way opposed to it either. If he had to guess, Ratchet was probably sitting on the proverbial fence waiting to see which way the cat would jump. If Galvatron didn't mind it then he wouldn't argue with him. Heck, he'd probably even pronounce a medical excuse just to give him a real, solid reason to stay for a little while.

"Well? Can he? Can he?" Miko pressed eagerly, bouncing on her heels.

Ratchet turned to give his now standing patient a quizzical look. He considered the former gladiator's reckless stunt at Ryker's and the currently healing bite wound on his lower leg. Taken together it was likely he would probably get himself into trouble in the same way Wheeljack had a lot of times. Caution and personal safety were words he clearly didn't know.

"I think staying here for a short time wouldn't do him any feasible harm. I really don't think my threat got through to him anyway." Ratchet admitted, cocking a brow ridge at the other mech. "Knowing him he'll just ignore it and get himself hurt again."

Galvatron shot him a highly amused look as though sarcastically saying "Aw. Darn. What gave it away?"

Miko whooped and bounded down to ground level while Rafael did his best to stifle his sudden urge to snicker. Galvatron really had no sense of risk if he was openly toying with Ratchet. Ratchet was the one mech besides Magnus who was actually dangerous to mess with because he _did_ carry through with his threats more often than not. Either Galvatron wasn't scared of him or he just didn't care about being attacked with a wrench or any other object that happened to be close at hand.

June sighed and shook her head. She would have to keep Miko from harassing him more than usual while he was here. Her tactlessness in her questions was the biggest issue in her mind. As a nurse she knew the value of giving an injured patient some semblance of personal space while they recovered.

Galvatron eyed the nurse curiously. That look on her face told him that she somehow knew about his curse. Ratchet had no doubt discovered it and told her as a fellow medical professional. Instinct told him that Jane might know about it as well. He personally didn't want the three teens to know about it. He tossed a fleeting look at her that begged her not to tell them and to his surprise the woman nodded imperceptibly in acceptance.

Jack had remained up on the catwalk and watched this silent and very short exchange between his mother and the former Decepticon. Something weird was going on – that much he could guess at. But what was Galvatron so desperate to keep secret?

However, he had to appreciate that if his mother was willing to keep whatever it was quiet it must not be dangerous. If experience and reading between the lines told him anything this was simply something relating to his forceful possession by Unicron – a side effect of it maybe that he wasn't comfortable sharing with anyone other than the healers.

"There's another reason you're alright with staying here for a while isn't there?" Rafael guessed rather shyly. "You don't want to be one of the people yelling at Fury, do you?"

Galvatron hesitated a moment before nodding. "I'd rather _not_ have the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D suddenly turn against me. He's supporting me as of right now, but that is only because the other Avengers are vouching for me. I believe if I gave him enough of a reason he would turn his entire organization against me."

"I highly doubt he'd go that far. Nick Fury may not be the most trustworthy man in the world but he does have a sense of respect." June said. "Only Maria Hill would be _that_ biased against you, but then again you probably already know that."

Well he remembered his conversation with the female agent. It had not been pleasant, and worst of all her accusations had been true and delivered in the most scathing manner possible.

'_Oh, have a little faith. I'm certain Agent Hill will learn to trust you in time._' A voice scolded lightly.

Galvatron sighed in irritation and rolled his optics. If this was what Optimus dealt with on a day-to-day basis he was seriously starting to feel a profound sense of pity for him. Because having an omnipotent planet god talking in his head was really irksome sometimes, along with being faintly disconcerting.

Ratchet smirked at the mech's reaction. "Is he bothering you?"

He sighed again. "I really do hesitate to call it 'bothering'. It's more along the lines of directed comments meant to keep my mind from falling into a dark void of my own making. So…" He considered for a moment. "I suppose 'intermittent counseling' if you will. That more or less sums up what he's doing."

"Cooool…." Miko breathed. Seriously though! An all-powerful deity was chatting away in this guy's head to keep him from sliding into melancholy and crippling depression when the Avengers weren't there to help him. That was actually pretty touching and heart-warming and showed just how awesome Primus really was.

"So basically he's continuing where Winter Soldier left off." Jack surmised. "Wait. Is _he_ the one you were shouting at last night?"

Again the teen's perceptiveness and accuracy in his guesses stunned the mech into staring at him. His ability was completely uncanny, and his blue-grey eyes seemed to coax answers out of him willingly in an unforceful manner. He had this air about that seemed to say "It's alright. You can tell me. I won't be judgmental."

"Yes."

Jack looked bewildered. He whistled. "Wow. What the heck did he say to make you react like that? I think you woke up half the apartment complex."

Slowly, and with a considerable amount of hesitation, he relayed the entire conversation he'd had while flying in the Midtown area and around the apartment complex. He left out his later conversation with Jack to keep Miko from pestering him with questions about what had transpired and his moment of emotional weakness – the latter remaining unrevealed simply due to his own stubbornness.

Ratchet nodded and the faintest flicker of a genuine smile ghosted across his face. It was good to know the ancient entity was looking out for Galvatron, and the fact that he was working to reverse Unicron's dark work on the mech's spark was comforting to the old medic, although Galvatron personally seemed entirely unaware of such corrective action.

"If he pops up in your head again tell him I said hi!" Miko grinned.

This resulted in Galvatron rolling his optics and snorting. This girl was impossible, and to be brutally honest – downright hysterical. After relaying a deeply moving conversation he'd held with a god-class being about his past _that_ was the first thing she said? _That_ was the first thing that came out of her mouth?

…_Really_?

In his head, Primus erupted in laughter while amused warmth suffused his spark. Apparently he shared the same opinion on the girl and found her highly entertaining. Miko was trouble incarnate but she did have a great skill at making other people laugh. In a way she was like a female version of Hawkeye.

Rafael and Jack eyed each other and snickered loudly while June sighed and pinched her nose in exasperation. But the nurse was able to let it go this time since obviously neither had been irritated by her remark. They were more amused than anything. Clearly irritating Galvatron's psychic counselor was next to impossible.

"That reminds me of something I wanted to ask you." Rafael said. "What _did_ Winter Soldier say to convince you to go back? From the way Ratchet described it you were pretty set on just isolating yourself out in the middle of nowhere and never interacting with anyone ever again."

He hesitated. Winter Soldier was someone who didn't like attention brought on him and relaying what he said and he consequently finding out at a later date might embarrass or upset him.

'_Barnes is a very private individual but I don't believe he would mind you telling them what he told you. He is also trying to rebuild his character after decades as the Skull's personal hit man. In many ways he _is _you, Galvatron._'

"He told me that he underwent a similar experience at the hands of the Red Skull. That I wasn't alone. He told me that the other Avengers were willing to look past his previous actions and accept him into their ranks. He didn't say so outright, but I infer that he refused the offer until he could clear up his past so he could return without guilt weighing him down. He advised me not to turn down their aid."

He hadn't appreciated the similarities between him and Winter Soldier until that very moment. But now the image of the sleek black mech on Cybertron who had helped save him, who had bravely stood up to Unicron, who had talked sense into him when he had turned his back on those who wanted to help him, stared back at him from inside his mind. His icy blue optics mirrored his own red ones in the emotional anguish they half-way concealed, the shame and guilt that flickered like a dull but ever-burning ember in them.

It was like looking at a reflection – a reflection of himself.

And it was _haunting_.

Unconsciously he felt himself shiver ever so slightly. Barnes had effectively played as an emissary to him from the other heroes and Autobots – even Primus himself – and his showing him that none of them harbored a grudge against him had been the last piece of solid proof he'd needed. If he hadn't come and found him, talked sense into him….he might not be standing here right now.

He might not even _be_ there at all.

'_Now you understand in full why I sent him after you?_'

He nodded slowly, red optics widening a little. On the surface he'd thought he'd sent Barnes after him just to convince him none of what had transpired was his fault, which in itself was very true and not in the least inaccurate – it was probably the main reason Primus had sent Barnes after him. When examined on a deeper and more psychological level, however, things took a much darker and more profound turn.

He hadn't been aware of it, but unconsciously he had more or less given up on himself and had condemned himself to his own death. He had been unconsciously thinking of ending himself – self execution – in a desperate attempt to free himself from Unicron's curse or at the least escape from the horror of all he had done.

Primus sending Barnes after him had literally _saved his life_.

'_All life is precious. I was _not_ about to let end your own. I know you have suffered greatly at the hands of my brother, but self-termination is never the answer to anything. _Never_ give in to such despair. No matter how dark it is there will always be a light to guide you out._' His voice was gentle but with a certain sternness in it.

"Uh….G-Galvatron? Are you okay?" Rafael squeaked. After his question the mech's face had undergone a bewildering array of expressions in a very short time span. Now he stood frozen and looked ready to emotionally snap like a twig. It was heart-rending to see.

Wordlessly he snapped out of his stupor and wandered outside in a near daze-like state.

"…What just happened?" Miko wondered.

June frowned worriedly and looked up at Ratchet. As a nurse she'd seen this sort of behavior before. He was in shock over something his mental counselor had said or revealed to him. He wasn't in any danger, but it would probably be best if someone went to check on him.

Ratchet nodded at her and watched the nurse leave in the direction the large mech had gone to check on him. Out of anyone present in the hangar she was probably the most qualified to do so.

* * *

June's search turned out to be a fairly short one. She found the large grey and black mech behind a disused hangar fairly close to Hangar E.

He was standing with his back in her direction and his helm resting against the metal of the hangar's walls. He was staring at the metal in front of him blankly. There was a strange, stunned look in his unblinking red optics along with a strange mix of emotions she couldn't quite decipher.

He must've heard her footfalls because the red optics flicked over and down to look at her with the same blankness in them. Then they flicked back to stare at the wall once more. This behavior was more than a little curious to her. Something his counselor had said had resulted in him effectively becoming _numb_ to his surroundings – though whether out of shock or some other reason was open to speculation in her mind.

She approached him and laid a hand on his foot.

Soft notes filtered into the mech's audials – soft, soothing, melodic notes that came from the woman at his feet. It took him a moment to realize what he was hearing: she was humming a song, one that sounded very much like a lullaby. Her voice flowed like water and slowly began to soothe him. Some deep part of him yearned to know the lyrics, but it was possible she didn't know them herself.

After a verse or two the humming stopped. He was almost sad that it did. Even without words it was beautiful to hear and acted like a balm to the stunned warrior, spreading a sense of serenity in his mind and spark.

He looked down at her in gratitude and the nurse smiled up at him in reply. She didn't remove the hand.

"Thank you." He rasped, so quietly she could barely hear him.

Seeing him so emotionally broken and beaten down was painful for the nurse who was used to being able to directly aid others. She had no desire to leave him on his own, but perhaps that was simply what he needed right now in order to heal and cope with whatever information his counselor had given him. She was a nurse – not a licensed psychiatrist.

She reluctantly removed her comforting hand and started to leave when his voice asked from behind:

"What song was that?"

June turned back around to reply: "Sleepsong by Secret Garden. A patient taught it to me while she was staying at the hospital in New York a couple of months ago recovering from a car accident. Jazz would be your go-to person if you want music downloads. I think he mentioned once he has something like ten iPods full to bursting with songs."

This actually made the mech stare at her for a moment before chuckling weakly. Yep. That was definitely something Jazz would do – _hoard_ music, and probably some of them were illegally downloaded in accordance with Jazz's masterful hacking skills. He didn't even bother asking where the slag Jazz had even gotten ten iPods.

"I will be sure to find him and ask him." He replied.

She nodded one last time and made her way back to Hangar E, leaving the mech on his own once more. He would head back once he had had some time to consider things.

* * *

After venting their spleens to the full (with a decent amount of profanities involved) on Nick Fury the Avengers had promptly cut off the video call with him. Now the Assembly Hall seemed to be infused with an air of righteous indignation that didn't seem ready to dissipate any time soon. That was when Wasp thought up the perfect remedy:

"Hey! Why don't we give OP a call? You know, update him?"

Everyone readily accepted – even the Hulk which was a bit of surprise to everyone. Normally when the Hulk was mad he was just mad and not a whole lot could be done about it. But everyone knew the strange quality of the Prime's voice – it could calm a raging tempest if need be.

Iron Man and Vision went to work trying to establish a connection with the Nemesis's communications array. After a few failed attempts they managed to get through to Soundwave whose blank visor face stared back at them patiently.

"Hi there Soundy!" Tony greeted with a smile. "Could you patch us through to the big guy? We got some stuff to tell him."

Soundwave glanced to the side upon apparently hearing someone enter the room he was in. Then he turned back to the screen. "Not necessary. Optimus Prime: now present. Will oversee communications relay repair efforts in city during exchange."

The faceless Cybertronian got up and left with a slight tilt of the head to acknowledge the one arriving into his special little domain on the Nemesis. It was replaced by a great red and blue form whose blue optics showed immense curiosity.

In unison the Avengers waved and said: "Hi!"

Optimus reeled back slightly from the sudden influx of noise, but the smile on his face betrayed he was in fact happy to see them. His gaze swept over the gathered heroes one by one until finally focusing on the whole group once more. They seemed tense but that tension was rapidly ebbing away.

"…Has Galvatron gotten himself in trouble already?" He asked slowly.

Much to his relief the heroes broke out laughing at the question, dispelling the last bit of tension that remained. That was all the answer he really needed. He was probably marginally in trouble over something, but not to the extent that he was thinking.

Before Cap or Tony could get a word in edgewise and begin to explain what had happened thus far in a professional manner, they were cut off:

"Dude! You totally missed him at Ryker's!" Wasp exclaimed. "I mean, I wasn't there but Spidey said he pulled a Cap and tried to take on every single villain in the cell block by himself and then took a beating from Sandman just to let the kid get to safety and call us! That's like _Hawkeye-tier_ recklessly brave!"

"I'm gonna ignore that…" Hawkeye grumbled, frowning. It was meant as a sort of weird compliment, but still. It didn't mean he had to like the subtle implications.

"And before that he took out two members of the Wrecking Crew _by himself!_ His holo-form is, like, _super_ overpowered! He's got this awesome energy sword and shield combo that makes him look like an Asgardian or something! _And he's got wings_! They've got this cool silver and black armor on them that look _so freaking cool_!"

She couldn't contain her enthusiasm and gave a little shriek of delight.

"Okay, Jan. Calm down." Ant-Man smiled. "I think he gets the picture."

"Where is he?" Optimus asked, smiling at Wasp's enthusiastic babbling. He'd actually missed it. Her boundless cheerfulness could light up a dark room.

Everyone looked at each other in mild confusion. Galvatron was supposed to have been back by now. Sealing a bite wound wasn't supposed to take this long, was it? Was something holding him up or was Ratchet just giving him a massive scolding about it that hadn't stopped yet?

"Galv got bit in the leg by the Wendigo while we were trying to capture it up in Canada. Doc's patching him up." Tony supplied. "He's actually the reason we managed to beat it. He held it down so Clint could inject three vials of antidote into it. Guess Doc detained him to chew him out over the injury."

The Prime nodded sympathetically both for the injury and the chewing out he was no doubt getting from the medic. There were some moments even _he_ was scared of his closest friend, and a scolding was one of the things he dreaded having to receive from him because Ratchet could get very…verbal for lack of a better term.

"How fare things on Cybertron?" Thor asked. It had been less than a week since they'd left their Autobot allies on their homeworld and taken Galvatron under their wing. He was curious to know what, if any, progress had been made.

"I do not know whether this will come as a surprise to any of you, but apparently the Guardian called Star-Lord pulled some strings in the Nova Corp and their starships have fanned out across the entire galaxy to help locate refugees and bring them back safely. They have also been sending aid in the form of volunteers and supplies on a regular basis."

Cap smiled. "Not much of a surprise, really. The Nova Corp is an intergalactic peace-keeping force after all. They're sort of like the National Guard mixed with the Red Cross but they _are_ technically a military force. Having them lend you guys a hand must be a big help."

"It is. We are grateful for their continued aid, and we do whatever we can to assist them in return. Their chief officer has even offered to integrate Cybertron into the Corp's vast collection of protected worlds in order to better help us in the long term."

"That's great!" They cried.

In the background of the call there was a loud banging noise followed by two young voices shouting incoherently in panic. The sliding door in the background barely had time to hiss open before two colorful blurs raced in to join in the live video chat. On the other side of the now shut-and-locked door a peeved voice shouted.

Bumblebee and Smokescreen looked at each other, then the door, and then they broke out laughing while Optimus looked at them in faintly amused disapproval.

"Ha! Hey there kid!" Hawkeye grinned. "Been causing trouble for me?"

"Like you even need to ask!" Smokescreen laughed. He held up something in his hand. "We just stole Knockout's rotary buffer!"

The pounding on the sliding door became more forceful and it sounded like the person on the other side of it was swearing creatively in German for reasons that would probably forever remain a mystery. When had Knockout learned to speak German? For that matter: Why?

Bumblebee smirked. "And boy is he ticked." He noted lightly, snickering quietly.

Optimus turned a flat look back at the monitor. "Why I ever thought pairing you with Smokescreen was a good idea I will never know. You corrupted a perfectly innocent mech and indirectly corrupted another by driving them to petty thievery. You should feel ashamed of yourself, Clint Barton."

Clint sniggered unrepentantly. "Yeah, I should. But I don't for one good reason. As a professional pranker I have standards and as such I taught them to the kid. Smoke – you remember?"

Smokescreen smiled and nodded. Hawkeye had a strangely specific set of rules he adhered to when pranking. First and foremost was that once the prank was accomplished any pilfered or sneakily borrowed items were to be returned to the proper owners. Secondly was that if anyone's feelings had been hurt they were to apologize. Those were the two main rules and were essentially a code of ethics.

"Show him I'm not that bad of a role model." Clint winked.

Both mechs approached the door and said: "Hey, Red! If you stop banging on the door and cursing we'll give it back!"

Instantaneously the pounding ceased and the aggravated voice fell silent. In compliance the door hissed open to reveal Knockout whose left optic appeared to be twitching. He held a single hand up and gave the universal gesture for "give-it-back".

Smokescreen grinned and handed the rotary buffer back to its owner who stared at him in surprise before grinning himself.

"I'll get you two back. Count on it." Knockout smirked evilly. Then he vanished down the hall he'd come from. Smokescreen seemed content with this until he happened to glance downwards…and found his Phase Shifter missing from his wrist. His reaction was both swift and ironically laughable:

Smokescreen pelted out of the door and shouted: "KNOCKOUT! GIVE IT BACK!"

Tony sniggered loudly because at that instant all he could see and hear was a peeved child who had just had his favorite toy taken away from him by an older sibling who enjoyed malicious trolling.

Bumblebee laughed and took off after his friend, leaving the remarkably patient Prime alone once again.

He got up and prepared to sever the live video connection. "I had best ensure no harm is caused by those three and their antics against each other. When you see him next, tell Galvatron I have every confidence in him no matter what happens. He was never a bad mech – he was simply guided down the wrong path, and now he has the opportunity to choose the right path. Also that wallowing in self-pity and remorse every chance he gets is not the way to go about correcting his mistakes."

And with that subtly poetic mini-speech the screen went black.

* * *

After what felt like an eternity of staring at the wall and trying to understand the actions of both Winter Soldier and Primus, Galvatron finally managed to peel himself away from his blank-minded staring contest with it and make his way back to Hangar E and groundbridge back to New York. The Avengers were probably wondering why he wasn't back yet. Wasp was probably worried about him like she always was.

Honestly, sometimes that woman was more of a worrier than Red Alert, and Red Alert's paranoia had been renowned by both Autobot and Decepticon during the War.

He stepped back in with a sense of trepidation that he found inexplicable. Such a sensation was explained when he saw Rafael sitting with his knees up to his face and his laptop shut next to him. Ratchet was purposefully keeping a hand near him on the console.

The boy's face lit up when he saw him come back in. Despite this happiness he seemed….perturbed. Put out by something, mildly upset even.

"There you are." Ratchet noted without even turning his head. Then he went back to what he was doing while keeping an unobtrusive optic on his charge.

"Galvatron? Did I…say something that upset you?" Rafael asked finally. "You walked out after I asked you that question and…"

The mech was shocked that he'd inadvertently upset the youngling just by leaving in the way he had. He'd had no idea Rafael was so sensitive. "What? No! Nothing like that! Your question just…helped me realize a few things about what had happened, and I simply needed time to process it all. I apologize if I hurt you, Rafael." He reassured him. "That was never my intention."

To his spark-felt relief Rafael smiled. "Raf."

Galvatron blinked. "What?"

"You're a friend now. You can call me Raf."


	8. Chapter 8: Not So Wonderful

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 8**

Ratchet had never understood the whole human concept of internally "melting" when exposed to something exceptionally adorable or cute. He prided himself on being immune to such a thing due to his scientific mindedness and practicality. Granted there were a few things that could make him laugh or chortle mainly due to the silliness of it – like Rafael's silly Mars Cat gif – but getting him to react to something ridiculously cute was a veritable impossibility. He didn't do cute.

But everyone has a breaking point. And eventually it comes to light.

With Ratchet, it was Rafael's statement regarding his nickname and Galvatron's shocked look and subsequent genuine smile. He could almost feel his spark melt into a puddle of cute-y gushiness in his chest at seeing the two interact with each other, and he couldn't suppress the warm smile's efforts to be made known.

He had a distinct feeling that these two were going to become the best of friends in a very short time span. Rafael had an uncanny talent to make friends with virtually anyone. In fact all three of the children possessed remarkable social skills. Jack was skilled at getting others to open up. Miko had the boundless enthusiasm of the trio and egged others on in their endeavors and goals.

Rafael….Rafael was the sweetest little thing on the face of the entire planet.

There. He admitted it.

Honestly, without Rafael's limitless knowledge of Earth computers and technology to help he would have probably slagged his own console a dozen times over. Without his aid the small little team of Autobots stationed here against an entire army might've wound up injured or even dead. Without his hacking expertise his home planet would've been overrun by Decepticons, Terrorcons, or a decidedly unpleasant mixture of the two.

When he thought back on how many times the boy had saved them it…it really was rather humbling to know that his life and the lives of his team and friends had all depended, directly or indirectly, on the skill of a boy younger than Miko.

"Alright, alright. You should be getting back, Galvatron." He said rather gruffly.

A trio of voices begged, entreated, and cajoled the old medic to let him stay just a little while longer, but he was adamant. Galvatron had other places to be and a city to help defend _and_ a task of helping the Avengers track down and/or capture supervillain escapees that were still at large.

"Awww!" Miko whined, folding her arms over her chest somewhat petulantly.

Galvatron managed a smile at her and then offered: "How about this – if I ever have down time I will come by and visit. Sound fair enough?"

"Awesome! Deal!" Miko cried joyfully, rushing forward to hug one of his ankles before skipping off merrily looking like she'd just hit the jackpot or won the lottery.

It was hard to see the spunky girl as the nuisance she was labeled as when she just wanted to get to know him better and talk with him. If one were to look past her unfortunate habit of getting in way over her head she was a very brave girl who was scared of nothing and didn't let anything stand in her way no matter how large or intimidating or terrifying it may be.

That amount of courage in one so small was incredible. He had seen it before during the War and yet it still left him surprised even now. He firmly believed this girl would face down and perhaps even openly insult and mock the Chaos-Bringer himself if given the opportunity to do so.

Ratchet watched Miko bound back up the steps to the small lounge up on the catwalks with an exasperated sigh and tiny smile. Then he turned back to his patient with a very commanding expression on his face.

"Alright. You keep off that leg as much as you can until your repair systems and nanites can seal it. No fancy transforming maneuvers or I'll surgically remove your T-Cog and mount it on the wall as a trophy. Understood?" Ratchet growled in a strangely gentle yet threatening voice.

Galvatron bowed his head in acceptance. "Yes, Doctor."

Then a thought struck him as he turned to leave. It was a forlorn hope and a forlorn idea, but it was worth asking even if the answer was negative in nature. Ratchet was a literal genius and could solve and fix many things that other mechs would be unable to, and his human partner might be of use as well.

"Doctor?"

Ratchet cocked a brow ridge inquisitively. "Yes?"

"Is there any way you could reactivate my weapons systems?"

For a moment the old medic stared at him almost in disbelief at the question. Then he frowned and shook his head, replying:

"Galvatron, you know just as well as I do that your weapons systems weren't just disabled but removed entirely by Unicron. Reactivating something that no longer exists is impossible. But perhaps I can see to making you a new weapons system if it's that much of a problem for you, granted that I have the resources to do so and you have the time to have them implemented."

Just hearing Ratchet say that was spark-lifting to the former gladiator. He could fight perfectly fine without weapons, but having them was more of a sentimental value to him since he wouldn't be able to actually use them against most supervillains. Just having his weapons systems working again would make him feel a little better.

"Thank you."

"Ask Stark and T'Challa when you return. Maybe they could help with it as well. It would give those two something to do outside of their normal activities and keep Stark from obsessing over Chamaeleon's unidentified prison hacker."

This made the larger mech smile faintly. He didn't know Stark as well as Ratchet did, but the man obsessing over anything technology related was entirely believable. He'd be just as upset if some outside force hacked into his ship's systems and disabled certain a key function like security, and that had actually happened when Ghost Recon had infiltrated his warship.

Personally he found it highly unusual that Stark had been unable to thus far identify the mystery hacker. Either that meant the hacker was even more skilled than he was or – oh now that was interesting thought.

What if the hacker was a sentient computer program and _not_ an actual person? That might explain the ruthless, computeristic efficiency the hacker had shown. But neither Jarvis nor Vision would do that. Jarvis was programmed as a nice AI while Vision's AI had openly renounced an evil, cold personality in favor of a warmer, gentler one. _Both_ of them did everything they could to make others feel happy.

So was there a _third_ option? It was definitely something to think about.

'_Indeed. That is a very good thing to point out._'

Unfortunately this was nothing more than mere speculation and abstract assumption on his part. Aside from the computeristic efficiency the hacker had shown there was no definite proof of the hacker being anything other than exceptionally talented and logical. If he brought this up to Stark, T'Challa, Vision – any of the technology buffs, really – it might lead their investigation in the wrong direction.

'_Yes, sometimes assumptions can be dangerous and lead to massive misunderstandings if the wrong assumption is made. But sometimes assumptions are necessary if there is not enough data to go upon. Sometimes there is no other option but to guess in order to fill in the blanks, and even then they are not always accurate._'

He found it impossible to argue back at the deity's gentle logic.

With a slight shake of his head he vanished inside the waiting groundbridge that would return him to the sub-levels of Avengers Mansion.

* * *

He emerged into the sub-level launch bay to find it devoid of life and activity. This wasn't troubling to him in the slightest. It was a gorgeous day out and the more physically active members were no doubt keeping themselves occupied in any number of ways.

Humans as a rule of thumb never seemed to pass up the opportunity to be outside when it was nice out.

And to be frank he enjoyed the relative silence of the sub-level launch bay and the faint rush of water from underneath. He could only take so much social interaction before the wear and tear started to show. Even the most extroverted being in existence has a threshold, and his mind was still reeling from all of the revelations that had come in a veritable tidal wave.

He searched around the sub-levels until he found everyone gathered in the Assembly Hall in deep discussion over something or other relating to escaped convicts – from the names alone it sounded like they were discussing the so-called Masters of Evil. They took notice of him before continuing in their conversation. It wasn't a dismissal but a silent invitation to join in if felt compelled to.

He took the invitation, switched to vehicle form and joined in with his holo-form. For the moment he would just listen in.

"I still think it's strange that Zemo hasn't stuck his neck out for this long." Cap noted curiously, hemming in thought. "_None_ of the Masters have made any sort of move lately for that matter. Am I the only one finding this odd?"

Thor leaned forward on the table. "Amorra is being kept under close watch on Asgard due to her past dealings with them. However she has not communicated with them at all since the battle for Cybertron. Lady Sif believes she may have turned her back on them in favor of a lighter path or simply chosen to remain a neutral party."

"Just because she's not with 'em anymore doesn't mean they've disbanded." Iron Man pointed out.

"Yeah, but I think they're just layin' low." Hawkeye said. "Maybe Ghost Recon's scared 'em into hiding or something. You guys saw how those Vehicons reacted to them on the Nemesis."

"Fear of the supernatural is psychologically imprinted on our species. Why not yours as well?" Galvatron mused thoughtfully, more to himself than anyone else in the Hall. Hawkeye made a very good point, but it still left some things unaccounted for.

Jarvis's voice rang out inside the Assembly Hall: "Avengers, pardon the interruption, but there appears to be a visitor at the front gates. Shall I let them in?"

"Go ahead Jarvis. If they're here and haven't attacked the place it means they need our help." Cap conceded. "Tell them we'll be up in just a minute and to wait for us in the lounge."

"Right away, sir."

Their meeting about the Masters was brought to an abrupt close in favor of a more pressing and immediate matter to attend to. People didn't stop by the Mansion to ask for the team's help every day and such visits usually meant something strange was going on.

Everyone filed out while Vision floated up through the ceiling. Galvatron, Ms. Marvel, and Wasp all flew up the wide elevator shaft in order to arrive with Vision. Those that remained waited until they were clear of the shaft and then summoned the lift.

* * *

The sight that met Vision, Galvatron, Ms. Marvel, and Wasp was both odd and worrying and stirred a sense of pity in all of them – which was strange considering who it was.

Leaning against the wall and looking very much the worse for wear was none other than Wonder Man – a member of the Master of Evil by force rather than choice. His whole body flickered uncertainly every few seconds and his expression betrayed both fear and pain.

"Simon!" Wasp cried, zipping over to him in alarm. She didn't care if he was supposedly a bad guy. He obviously needed help that the Masters wouldn't give him. T'Challa had told all of the Avengers about his hesitation when he'd encountered them at his Norn Stone location. It felt like a lifetime ago now.

"Where's Stark?" Wonder Man rasped, wincing as his energy body spasmed again. His tone sounded less like where's-Stark-so-I-can-painfully-kill-him and more where's-Stark-I-need-his-help-right-now.

"He's on his way. Lemme see if I can stabilize you." Ms. Marvel replied curtly. As an energy manipulator who was part Kree she could actually feel his energy in flux as well as see it and it was worryingly faint and erratic.

She nodded to Galvatron who surprisingly seemed to understand her plan. He summoned his energy blade and let her drain some of its power into herself before transferring it via physical touch to Wonder Man. Blasting him with the energy would've been idiotic in his current state. Doing so would've probably killed him.

From the way Simon's body stopped spasming as frequently she knew it had worked, but it was a temporary solution. His energy form was destabilizing and he needed a permanent means of staying together.

"Thanks." He said quietly.

Right on cue the lift opened to permit Iron Man, Panther, Ant-Man and Thor. The Asgardian hefted his hammer but when both women shook their heads at him he dutifully lowered it.

Wonder Man's openly pleading red energy eyes met the expressionless metal faceplate of Iron Man. Their gazes remained locked for a full minute until Wonder Man shifted and tried to stand. In his weakened, unstable state he decided to use the wall as a crutch.

"What are you doing here, Simon?" Iron Man wondered, lifting the faceplate up. His tone betrayed shock but no outright anger or suspicion. When Simon had destroyed the last Norn Stone before the Skrull invasion he had thought he had died.

Wonder Man took a shaky breath in and then replied: "I need your help."

Panther approached Simon and gently helped him over to one of the sofas so he could sit down while the remaining Avengers trickled in from the sub-levels. "Why don't you start from the beginning?" He suggested.

The former villain nodded mutely and began his explanation without further ado:

"I'm pretty certain all of you remember Enchantress's crazy vengeance schemes from a while ago. I'm even more certain you guys remember the end game between her and Zemo down in the Mansion sub-levels – how I broke the Stone and transported her someplace else in the process and made me disappear."

"We thought you died." Stark admitted.

Wonder Man nodded again and continued: "Well, obviously I didn't. My ionic energy must've messed with the Stone's power and I wound up on the other side of the planet in the middle of nowhere. But something happened while I was busy laying low – Enchantress's spell that kept me together started to fade. I didn't know what else to do or who else to go to….so I came here."

"But that was almost a year ago. How are you still in one piece?" Wasp wondered.

Wonder Man shrugged. "Do I look like an expert in magic? My best guess is residual energy from her spell. There's barely any energy from her spell left now. I don't even know what's holding me together anymore."

Galvatron observed silently with mounting worry. This man was literally being held together by a wing and a prayer. But he also got the sense there was another reason he was here other than the obvious physical destabilization.

"You quit the Masters of Evil didn't you? You aren't just here for medical help – you're here for sanctuary." He guessed.

His guess turned out to be one hundred percent accurate. Wonder Man admitted that such was the case and admitted also he had nowhere else to go. He had Zemo and his few remaining lackeys hunting him as a traitor and he had never been able to stay in one place for too long, which was why he had destabilized quickly – he'd been overexerting his already unstable energy.

"Well then let's see what we can do to keep you together. Hank, T'Challa, Vision – meet me in the lab." Tony requested. "Everyone else – keep an eye out for Zemo or any of his buddies in the general vicinity. If they come pounding at our doors….pound them back."

Everyone nodded agreement and split off to cover the Mansion in pairs of two and three. They would guard the place while the geniuses worked their particular brand of magic.

* * *

Galvatron, Wasp, and Thor covered the south perimeter of the Mansion and surrounding neighborhoods for any signs of Zemo or his lackeys. Hawkeye observed from the building's rooftop with his sharp blue eyes, bow at the ready. Hulk lumbered around the Mansion grounds and covered the various main entrances. Lastly, Cap patrolled around on his motorcycle in all of the varying side streets.

As he kept watch the mech reflected on his own connection to the Masters of Evil. He had willingly allied himself with someone who would backstab his own allies to save his own skin and had tried to subjugate an entire planet. It felt like a lifetime ago – like it had happened to someone else entirely.

'_It did happen to someone else. While you were under Unicron's thrall you were not yourself._'

Galvatron sighed and decided to drop the subject and continue his searching. He pinged Wasp and Thor to report if they had found anything and both replied in the negative. He was about to ping Hawkeye and ask the same but the archer beat him to it.

[I think I just spotted something. It looked like – _Bzzt…_] Static cut off the archer's words and made the mech growl in frustration. Someone was sending out a jamming signal on all frequencies and he had a pretty good idea who the culprit was.

Crimson Dynamo. He had to be nearby for the jammer to work, too. If he found him he could re-establish communications with the team by shutting off his jamming signal. Knowing Dynamo it was coming from his armor and not some device he kept near at hand.

He activated his onboard scanners and tried to isolate the jamming signal. His scanners weren't as accurate or as powerful as they had been before his forceful possession but at the very least they still functioned properly. He finally zeroed in on the signal and began to follow it.

It led him off a mile or so into Midtown. Concealed atop a low building was a great dark red metal form that was bigger, bulkier, and heavier in appearance than the Iron Man armor. The figure saw the game of hide-and-seek was up and unleashed a storm of rockets from mounted shoulder launchers at him.

Instinctively the aircraft rolled out of the way to avoid the storm of rockets. They exploded harmlessly mid-air thanks to some masterful shooting from an arriving Thor.

Galvatron quickly adjusted the positioning of his frontal plating when Dynamo raised his Gatling gun hand and attacked him with it. He could feel the bullet hit against his thick armor but none so far had penetrated. If there was one thing he could actually thank Unicron for it was his enhanced durability. Idly he registered a light stinging sensation on his portside but paid it no mind.

"Can you short his armor out?"

Thor grinned broadly. "Aye!"

The Asgardian flew upwards a little ways and began rapidly spinning his hammer at his side. Electricity sparked off it the faster it spun until the hammer itself was nothing more than a grey and electric blue blur. He aimed the hammer at Dynamo and released a massive bolt of lightning that struck the armor dead in the chest.

Both Avengers could almost hear the armor's motor circuits being fried to a crisp. Dynamo swore inventively in Russian as the armor glitched out from the overload and his visual display fritzed, impairing his sight. His suit struggled to redistribute the massive electrical shock to other non-vital systems.

The optical sensors on the helmet corrected themselves just in time to let him see Thor flying towards him with Mjolnir. He couldn't react fast enough. Thor swung the hammer baseball bat style at him, sending him flying quite a distance onto another rooftop.

Wasp zipped up with wide admiring eyes. "You ever consider baseball, sparky? You'd make a great batter."

Thor's confused yet proud look made Galvatron quietly snicker. He had detected the compliment with ease but plainly had no clue what baseball was. Even after his extended stay on Earth is was funny how little he knew about certain aspects of their culture – like sports.

[Avengers, communications are back online.] Galvatron reported in. [Are you all alright?]

[We're all good.] Cap reported. [Thanks for that, Galv. Now we can coordinate again.]

"Don't thank me alone. I merely located the jamming signal. Thor took care of it."

It felt good to be thanked and be modest about it in return. That was really all he'd done aside from having taken a couple hundred bullets by playing target dummy and none of those bullets had pierced his armor. All he had done was play live shield.

Unicron's manipulation and direct control at certain junctures had transferred his massive prideful ego that the dark deity possessed into him. Now – modesty felt right because his role in Dynamo's defeat had been modest. He hadn't done anything spectacular.

[Well, thanks to both of you then.] Cap corrected himself. [Hawkeye, you got eyes on any of the other Masters?]

For a moment they panicked when Clint didn't respond right away. Then: [Well, Hulk just took out Abomination near the back entrance. No sign of Executioner though. I think I saw Zemo slinking around. He was near your last location, old man – a couple streets over.]

[Roger that. I'll see if I can find him.] There was barely detectable edge in his voice that he was masterfully concealing.

There was a light click as the soldier severed his line and began his search for his enemy.

He knew of Roger's decades long grudge match with the Baron and Zemo's utter lack of any finer shades of feeling. Even after seventy-five years on ice the hatred the soldier held against the Hydra lieutenant still burned strong as ever. Their animosity against each other ran deeper than the depths of the Pit.

He suggested Thor and Wasp head back to help Hulk and Hawkeye cover the Mansion and they left him to do so with warnings for him to stay safe. He then flew off to join Captain Rogers in his hunt for Baron Zemo.

* * *

Galvatron found Rogers in less than a minute. He was off his motorcycle now and searching on foot. The soldier looked up on hearing his engine and nodded silently, motioning for him to keep watch from above and only interfere when he gave the order. He was used to dealing with Zemo – Galvatron wasn't.

"Well, well." A German voice purred suavely. "I heard the rumors of a new Avenger but I had no reason to believe them. And I am surprised you of all people would accept a war criminal and murderer onto your squadron, Captain."

Out of the shadows of the alley stepped a man in a pale violet outfit and mask that seemed to be fused to his face with a tiny gold crown on his head. Around his neck was a white fur collar accent. A sword hung unsheathed on his belt and he walked with the assurance of a born noble.

"Zemo." Cap growled.

Zemo drew his sword with a flourish while the soldier raised his shield to deflect the rapid lunge. Both fighters began to slowly circle each other like two big cats waiting to pounce, their eyes narrowed and on the alert for the slightest movement.

Galvatron waited above and observed them while patiently waiting for Cap's call to jump in and help. The slight stinging sensation surfaced again but once more he chose to ignore it. He wasn't getting any injury notifications. Even still it made him wobble uncertainly.

Zemo took notice for the briefest moment and gave the soldier the attack opening he needed. He swung his shield at his face and threw him to the ground. Cap watched in mounting worry as the aircraft slowly lowered to the ground and transformed, swaying on his feet and leaning against the sides of the building.

"It would seem Dynamo has hit his mark for once." Zemo chuckled darkly.

Cap snarled aggressively, pulling Zemo to his feet and gripping him firmly by his neck: "What did you do to him?"

Zemo choked for a second until the soldier loosened his death grip around his neck ever so slightly. He glanced over and up at the great grey and black mech through his mask's white eyes and seemed acutely pleased with himself and the mech's rapidly worsening condition.

"A nano-virus designed with the aid of Arnim Zola's notes on Cybertronian physiology. It shuts down their systems one by one. And then….it goes for the spark." Zemo clarified in an unnervingly dark purr.

Cap gasped in both anger and shock, but refused to remove his grip on Baron Zemo.

"You can either let me go and help your friend or let him die a very slow and painful death. What will it be Captain? My imprisonment or his life? Choose quickly. He is running out of time."

With a growl the soldier flung Zemo to the ground and turned his attention to the mech who was now on his knees. He brought out his ID card and barked a curt order at Jarvis to run a full diagnostic scan to find the source of the virus. If Dynamo had shot him then there had to be some sort of injector lodged somewhere on his frame.

"Target: Found." Jarvis reported. His scanner showed a small bullet-like object lodged in Galvatron's upper back.

Without asking he leapt up and climbed the mech's arms and up towards his neck. He swung around and lowered down towards where Jarvis had found the object. With a muttered apology he gripped the injector and yanked it out.

Instead of feeling relief he felt alarm when Galvatron collapsed onto the ground. He jumped off and ran around to his head to see his red optics flickering madly. His air cycles were weak and labored.

Cap put a gloved hand on his forehead and murmured: "Stay with me, pal. Stay with me. We're gonna get you help but you have to stay with me. Just focus on me. Nothing else. Ignore everything else. I am _not_ giving up on you and you sure as hell better not give up on yourself."

Galvatron's optics and audials were slowly off-lining but right before they went dark and deaf respectively he detected a strange golden-white glow coming from the soldier's upper arm and the faint sound of worried voices coming from seemingly nowhere.

So he didn't hear him say: "Stay with me, buddy. I've lost too many friends – I am _not_ losing another….Not today…."


	9. Chapter 9: Saved by the Light

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 9**

Cap kept his gloved hand on the mech's forehead in the vain hope it might somehow anchor him and give him a reason to fight the nano-virus with every ounce of will he had or somehow transfer his own will into him. Thanks to World War Two he had seen far too many good people die from their injuries and from infection. Normally for someone who had lived in that sort of environment it would render them immune to such sights after a time.

But not Captain Rogers. He had never developed that callous immunity. It hurt every single time he watched a soldier die in the field or at a field clinic. It tore him in half to see someone suffer in their last moments – to know their last sensation would be pain.

It hurt even more when there was literally nothing he could do to help, when he personally knew he was of no use to the person in need.

He rested his own forehead against Galvatron's and shut his eyes, opening them after a moment or two and showing an ocean of pain in them. His glance shifted to the side just for a moment and he did an abrupt double take at something he caught out of the corner of his eye.

"What…?" He breathed in shock.

His upper arm was glowing and pulsing with golden-white light beneath his uniform in the shape of the Autobot insignia. He barely registered Jarvis contacting Tony and barely heeded the sounds of approaching propulsion systems as reality faded and his mind flashed back.

* * *

_He struggled up from the floor wincing in pain. He tried to move his arm and pain laced up the limb. Instinctively he covered the wound he knew was there with his other hand and got to his knees. Unable to stand he stayed on the floor. His entire arm burned like fire and he barely paid any heed to the conversations going on around him._

_Wasp and Thor rushed over to him first. Thor readily tore off part of his cape and wrapped it around the bleeding wound on his upper arm with Wasp's help. Right afterwards the remaining Avengers clustered around him worriedly, demanding if he was alright. He couldn't answer them in the negative. _

_He took note of light footfalls echoing off the tile floor and raised his head to see a white-armored man slowly approaching him. He was uncertain whether his eyes were playing tricks on him but he could see a faint glow around him. _

_None of the Avengers kept him back and let him pass without problems. He knelt down and half-way extended a hand but stopped it a few inches away from his injured arm._

"_May I?" He asked gently._

_Cap nodded mutely and held out the injured arm to him. Thus encouraged the white-armored man reached out the remainder of the way and laid a hand on his arm. It was a very gentle but firm grip that warned him not to move for a moment._

_He winced as white light spider-webbed up his entire arm. He could feel it burning away whatever had infected him – like sunlight burning away a dense fog. It wasn't like the bad burning of the alien toxin and strangely felt a little comforting. He hadn't been aware of his own anxiety and fear but he could now feel it ebbing away._

_For a very brief fraction of a second he could even sense this entity's very life force healing his own. Primus was freely sharing his power with him for that brief fraction of a second. _

_After a moment the man removed his hand and turned to address the other Avengers. "He is fine." _

_Then he turned back to the soldier with a smile. "You can remove the bandage now. The Dark Energon was the only thing keeping it from healing and I may have sped up the healing process, too."_

_Cap stared at him for a second before turning his attention to his bandaged arm. Slowly and carefully he unwound the smooth red fabric from his arm with no idea what to expect. His mouth dropped open when the bandage fell away._

_Emblazoned into his upper arm was a glowing golden Autobot crest. He heard everyone around him gasp in surprise and for the moment speech failed him completely. All he could do was stare at the strange glowing tattoo and hope it wasn't permanent._

"_Steve? Are you okay? Steve!"_

* * *

He jolted back to reality with a gasp and a step back. He shook his head to clear the last imagery shreds from the flashback. It took him a minute to comprehend who had spoken and had snapped him out of the sudden flashback.

Tony!

Busy at work on the unconscious and weakened Galvatron was Iron Man. In his hand was an empty injector that looked like a less dangerous version of the one Dynamo had shot the mech with while fighting him. His faceplate was up and he was looking at him oddly and with a decent amount of worry in his eyes.

"You okay? You were all spaced out when I got here." Tony said.

He ignored the question. "Galvatron? Is he…?" Steve demanded with a sense of dread in his heart.

"He's fine. That nano-virus wasn't all that complicated despite how powerful it was. By the time I got here Jarvis had already coded up an anti-virus for it. There was no major damage done. This was just an escape tactic Zemo used to force you to let him go. Guy was smart and played you like an instrument."

Cap let out a relieved sigh. He didn't care that Zemo had gotten away again. All that mattered was that Galvatron would pull through. And they did have Dynamo and Abomination in custody now so it wasn't a total loss in that regard. Two villains off the street were better than none.

He was curious as to why Tony hadn't mentioned the whole "Weirdly Glowing Arm Tattoo" thing to him but he soon figured out why he hadn't – the tattoo had stopped glowing and had apparently faded away again. His upper arm looked entirely normal again.

So why had it lit up like a Fourth of July fireworks display in the place? Why had it showed up then and not at any point beforehand? And what did it mean?

These questions were pushed to the backburner when Galvatron stirred weakly and his red optics flickered back to life. He tried to push himself up off the ground but Tony advised him not to. His anti-virus was still coursing through him and he needed to stay relatively still until it could wipe the last strand of the nano-virus out of his systems, so running after Zemo was not recommended.

"And before you even ask – no. No one was hurt. I'm pretty sure you nearly scared Steve to death though." Tony told him. "And don't even get me started on the Doc's panic-induced flip-out that he had when he detected your systems going down. I've still got ringing in my ears." He admitted, comically wincing.

Cap actually cracked a small smile at this, though his blue eyes were still troubled.

Galvatron heeded Stark's advice wordlessly and didn't struggle to his feet right away or blindly rush off to find Zemo, electing instead to sit back against the building's side and let the inventor's anti-virus work unhindered. He had to hand it to the man. His skills in countering malicious malware were incredible – mind-boggling even.

"You okay?" Tony asked.

Galvatron remained silent for a moment as he thought this over. Answering in that no he wasn't would do nothing to dispel the man's anxiety nor that of his friend, but at the same time answering that yes was mostly alright be the honest thing to do. Eventually he decided on a negative humorous reply.

"Well aside from nearly meeting my end via rampant nano-virus I am perfectly fine." He joked dryly.

He was relieved to see both men smirk at him. He'd chosen correctly in his response.

His mind recalled the last thing he'd seen before his optics had shut down when the nano-virus had attacked them – that strange golden-white glow that had come from the soldier at his side. He wondered what that had been about.

And moreover – what it had been.

* * *

After a bit of passive arguing with Iron Man and Cap regarding his well-being Galvatron was released to patrol the city under the condition he was to call for back-up if he managed to find Baron Zemo or any other trouble.

Knowing Zemo it was a foregone conclusion that the slimy eel of a man had already slipped under the radar once more and vanished underground to continue his anti-superhero plotting. But as a born noble the man did have an ego that he constantly stroked and would sooner or later stick his neck out again to continue hunting Wonder Man – the "traitor".

And the ironic thing was that Wonder Man wasn't even a traitor to start with. He hadn't _wanted _to be part of the Masters of Evil – he'd been forced into joining. He hadn't _wanted_ Zemo, Enchantress, and Loki to win in their triple conquest of Earth – he'd effectively _let_ Arcee and Panther win when he'd fled the scene.

Those were the actions of a reluctant hero and _not_ a willing villain.

In fact, the whole reason he'd attacked Stark – and consequently the remaining Avengers – way back when was because he had been upset at Stark for buying his company without explaining why to him and acting rather callous about the whole thing. This seeming indifference had unsurprisingly rubbed Simon Williams up the wrong way.

'_Hmm._'

Galvatron snorted in amused derision as he flew towards the East Side. "Really? That's all you have to say about this? A thoughtful sounding rumble?"

'_I did not realize you wanted my in-depth input about Mr. Williams's actions._ _I thought you were merely reflecting without the desire for an outside opinion._'

Well to be frank that had been exactly what he had been doing. And to be even more frank he was actually beginning to enjoy the commentary and advice the all-powerful little voice in his head had to offer even if having a voice in his head in the first place was a little strange to him still.

'_I'm pleased you find my words helpful even though you find my telepathic communication with you strange. If you ever want my advice on anything you need only ask for it._'

He had seen it firsthand before and had heard it as well more than once since his departure from Cybertron, but the deity's kindly generosity towards him still struck a profound chord. If didn't know any better he would think Primus saw him as a special case which in itself was touching.

Having scanned the grounds and buildings for trouble and finding none he flew over to the West Side. He had nothing else to think deeply about and simply let his mind go off on numerous tangents about various villains and heroes as they came to him.

With his mind so focused on other topics he didn't feel the subtle warmth in his spark slightly increase as his counselor burned away some of the implanted darkness in it, slowly reconnecting it with the source. Satisfied, the sentient warmth faded until it could burn away more at a later time.

* * *

Tucked away in the safety of the sub-level laboratories of Avengers Mansion a group of people were working away trying to save a fellow life before it dissipated entirely.

T'Challa and Vision were actively working with Wonder Man to keep him stable while Ant-Man and a once again present Iron Man collaborated with Ratchet on the heavily encrypted Autobot frequency to keep anyone from listening in. The medic had a surprising amount of knowledge regarding ionic energy and how to keep it stable.

"So you think the best way for now is some sort of energy badge thing like the Leader used on all the gamma villains in the Cube?" Tony asked. "Something that will regularly infuse energy into him and keep him stable?"

[For now I think that would be the best solution. And if it works I don't see why it shouldn't stay on. It may be childishly simple but it would also be very effective.] Ratchet answered. [That Arc Reactor in your chest works the same way.]

This devolved into engineering jargon that Wonder Man honestly couldn't follow fully despite his own technical genius. A lot of this jargon actually came more from Ratchet rather than Iron Man. Simon privately paid grudging kudos to Stark for understanding all of it. He really was a genius.

Even if he _wasn't_ much of a genius in terms of social interaction….

With a cheerful sounding little noise Tony flew away from one section of the lab and over to one of the worktables. He set to work building the frame of a hand-sized badge-like object with some help from the other Avengers present.

Curiosity made him wander over to inspect their work and even go so far as to offer input. Rather than outright ignore him as Stark had done previously he actually listened to his opinions and experience with power sources as a kind of subtly offered olive branch. It was Stark's way of apologizing for his previous callousness without going so far as to say it out loud.

Stark continued to work away on the badge. Done with the framework he started on the other aspects of it. Here, Ant-Man's size-shifting ability came in useful for connecting tiny wires that Stark's hands were simply too big to work with.

Wonder Man expected the whole project to take quite a bit of time but it turned out the item was so simple yet functional that it only took three hours to complete. And it turned out Stark had only designed one part of the device to look like a badge. It really looked like a sleek wrist gauntlet, designed to infuse the energy contained in the badge-part (the energy storage chamber) at regularly scheduled intervals or whenever in-built sensors detected an energy fluctuation.

"Alright. Let's see how this works."

Stark snatched up the badge and slid it onto Wonder Man's wrist, at the same time activating the device.

"Try doing something that makes the energy flux."

Wonder Man nodded and turned to face T'Challa who was holding up a random item for him to shoot. On a silent signal the Wakandan flung the object in the air. Wonder Man raised a hand and shot out a concentrated beam of ionic energy that blasted the object, sending it flying out into the launch bay.

He instantly felt himself destabilize and his energy form spasm and then the gauntlet on his wrist reacted like lightning, glowing pale blue and infusing its energy into him. Right away he felt better and his energy form stopped spasming.

"Ha! It works!" Wonder Man cried.

Tony scoffed and looked humorously insulted. "'Course it works. I built it."

Vision smirked, lightly bopping him on the head. "Don't you mean 'we'?"

"Right, right. _We_ built it." Tony corrected himself, smiling.

Wonder Man tried it again by slightly expanding the ionic energy and growing to about eight feet in height. Once more the gauntlet shone pale blue and infused the required stabilizing energy into him. Then he shrank back down to his normal height.

"Stark, this…." Speech failed him for a moment. "I can actually _live_ again with this. Thanks."

"Yeah, just don't go consorting with A.I.M or supervillains again and we'll call it even." Tony joked. Then an idea struck him: "Actually, I've got an offer for you – what would you think about being an Avenger?"

* * *

Cap hadn't returned to the Mansion with Tony. Instead he rode around the entire island of Manhattan thinking back on the strange arm tattoo that had lit up inexplicably while idly keeping track of Galvatron on his ID card. He wasn't following the mech – quite the opposite. If he thought he was getting too close to the aircraft's position he would redirect himself so it wouldn't look like he was tailing him.

What _had_ the tattoo lighting up actually meant? It didn't seem to have physically done anything useful. All it had done was glow and look mysterious. But reflecting back, it had _only_ lit up after he'd come into physical contact with the mech, and his rapid recovery gave him an inkling of suspicion.

Was it, in fact, some sort of beacon-like anchor or maybe a wireless healing factor?

That might explain why the nano-virus hadn't killed him even though it was pretty obvious it had almost reached his spark and snuffed it out. Had that tattoo had somehow….spiritually anchored him or something? Had it kept him alive until Tony had gotten there to cure the nano-virus?

If so: _How?_

Some moderately sized part of him just flat-out decided "Why not just ask him through Galvatron or Optimus?"

Because it was pretty evident to him that the deity more or less inhabited the grey and black mech in a strange mental/spiritual fashion that he'd somehow both inferred and sensed – which was even more bizarre to him and frankly a bit disconcerting.

Another part of him didn't really want to know the answer to that question for fear of what the answer would be, but that part was decidedly less than the former "Just Ask" part of him. He wasn't proud and he really wanted an answer to this.

He pulled into Central Park and parked his motorcycle under a tree. He flicked out his ID card and contacted Galvatron. The mech responded almost instantly.

[Captain? Is something wrong?]

He sighed and leaned against the tree as casually as he could. "I got a question for the little voice in your head. Is…that okay?"

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then: [He's saying he can join in on the Avengers frequency so you don't need to put the question through me. You can just ask him directly. Give him a second.]

Cap listened for the tell-tale sound of another caller joining in on the frequency. After a moment there was little musical tone that betrayed said caller hopping into the chat and unless his eyes were playing tricks him on it looked like the ID card flashed solid gold for a fraction of a second. Also the voice quality seemed to increase by a lot as well like the joiner was actively removing any interference.

[You want answers.] It wasn't a question but a statement. His tone alone told him he'd been expecting this call.

"Yes. What's with the glow-in-the-dark body art?"

* * *

It took Wonder Man a moment or two to compute the offer. He stared at Stark as though he literally hadn't understood what he'd just suggested to him. His mind seemed to shut down for a second.

"Me? Y-You want _me_ as an Avenger?" He repeated incredulously, pointing to himself. Unconsciously he took a step back as his mind reeled in shock. After all that he had done Stark was offering both a plainer olive branch _and_ a chance to wipe clean the slate – to start over.

Stark nodded. "That's what I said."

He considered for a long time in total silence. From the looks on everyone's faces it was clear they weren't going to rush a decision. He could take all the time he needed. Whatever decision he made they would be content with it.

He turned to face all four present Avengers and said two words: "I'm in."

Stark looked childishly pleased on hearing this and heartily clapped him on the shoulder. Then he forced a more professional attitude and held out a hand to him which Wonder Man took and shook in a kind of conscious daze.

"Welcome to the Avengers, Simon."

Wonder Man's hand was finally released and he was allowed to roam the labs and sub-levels to familiarize himself with the layout of the place before he was brought up to the greet everyone else. In the launch bay he noticed something that hadn't been there before – an extra launch pad that looked different than the others.

"Did you build another aircraft?" He wondered aloud.

Stark flew over to him. "Oh, that? Nah. That's Galv's launch pad we built for him. He's taken a bit of a liking to it even though the stubborn guy is more restless than me on espresso. He constantly puts himself on patrol and only comes in occasionally to take a short breather."

Wonder Man looked puzzled at the strange name. "Galv?"

"Galvatron." Panther clarified upon casual approach. "You probably know him as Megatron, though when he returns you most likely won't recognize him in either appearance or personality. In fact, you saw his holo-form in the lounge."

Wonder Man nodded. He remembered the one stranger in the room he hadn't recognized – the black-winged male flier in black Kevlar body armor. That had been Megatron – Megatron, the self-same Decepticon leader who had allied himself with the Masters of Evil? He was an Avenger now?

"You're joking. Since _when_?"

There was a sudden loud roar as a large black and grey aircraft swept in through the large exit tunnel. It hovered for a moment above the launch pad before transforming and examining the small gathering on the walkways with mild curiosity. Despite the drastic change in physical appearance there was no mistaking those ruby red optics.

Wonder Man stared. "Okay. _Not _joking."

"There you are!" Tony cried out, flying up to him. "Did you find Zemo?"

The mech shook his head in what looked like mild annoyance but it wasn't directed at Stark's question. It was more directed at himself and at Zemo. "No. Captain Rogers was searching as well and he never managed to locate him either. The demented scraplet got away again."

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "I actually figured you two wouldn't find him. Zemo's smart. We'll just have to wait until he pops his head out and go after him then. That's usually how it works. It's nothing to get worked up about."

"Where is Steve anyway?" He asked after a short silence.

Galvatron smirked and said: "When I left him he was busy interrogating a god over the Avengers frequency."

Despite the overwhelming temptation to listen in on the conversation he hadn't given in to it. His respect for both of them had cut that train of thought dead before it had even had the chance to start rolling. Whatever they were discussing was their business to discuss – not his.

He caught the intrigued glitter in the inventor's eyes. "Stark, I have the feeling if you tried to listen in you wouldn't be able to. He's most likely isolated the frequency because he correctly assumed that _you_ out of _all _the Avengers might try to _eavesdrop_."

His smirk grew a little when Stark looked guilty and Wonder Man subsequently covered his mouth to hide his own emerging smirk.

Wonder Man had to admit to himself that he liked the new Galvatron better than the old Megatron. He actually had a sense of humor – one that was surprisingly sassy and sarcastic and wry all at once. He had literally just called Stark out over his insatiable curiosity and child-like desire to eavesdrop on a god and his own leader.

Wow.

Galvatron: One. Stark: Zip.

This team had suddenly gotten a lot more dynamic and interesting. Were they always like this?

If someone tried to call out or correct Zemo there was the ever-looming risk of being instantly killed. But Tony didn't seem to mind the playful heckling mainly because he knew it was accurate. If he had to guess, Captain Rogers might react similarly.

Was the team always this…_lenient_ towards one another even if a member was technically new? Because if so that was something Wonder Man hadn't actually caught during his previous interactions with them. Probably because he'd been so focused on obeying Zemo and Enchantress's orders to the letter to keep himself alive and trying to hurt them that he hadn't really paid attention to their interactions at all. But now he could actually learn about them more in-depth.

Along with some help from the other resident new guy, of course.


	10. Chapter 10: The Return of MECH Part One

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 10**

There were a few minutes of suspenseful silence as both parties gathered their thoughts and readied themselves for an informative conversation over a sensitive and not easily explained topic. During this silence the soldier had wandered a little deeper into the Park to get some distance from the noise of the city and the people. Picking a tree at random he jumped up, gripped one of the lower branches and swung himself up into its leafy boughs.

With a soft sigh he leaned against the massive oak's thick trunk. Normally he'd feel a little bit silly hiding out in a tree in Central Park but with the risk of some random person coming upon him on the walkways he felt somewhat safer here. There was less of a chance of him being interrupted.

[Comfortable?]

"As comfortable as I can get in a tree, but I guess so. Feel free to start explaining the freaky tattoo whenever you like." He replied rather gruffly to start with. He quickly corrected his tone to a lighter one on realizing his unconscious mistake.

There was a gentle sigh on the other end and then the deity began to explain:

[To answer your question about the mark I must explain first what it was intended to do when I gave it to you on Asgard. When I gave it to you it was meant to act as a sort of vaccine in a sense. Should Unicron ever target you again in the future it would render you immune to the degenerative effects of Dark Energon. I am not certain if Ratchet explained to you that humans cannot develop an immunity to it in the same way Cybertronians can.]

"Well, he didn't mention it specifically to _me_ but I'm willing to bet he told the techies and maybe Jane and June due to their medical profession. But if that's what it is….then why didn't you inoculate the other Avengers? Why only me?"

[Being physically comatose has a tendency to sap your strength to a remarkable degree. I was so weak that I could only inoculate one of you – the one who was already infected. That weakness also rendered me vulnerable to attack which was why I was forced to let Optimus deal with Unicron.]

Cap nodded to himself and let the deity continue with his narrative:

[When you left to return to your own world after the battle for Cybertron I modified it as a means of protecting him while he is physically out of my reach. If you want to know the reason for this alteration you must either ask Galvatron himself or one of the healers. I warn you now that you will not like the answer.]

His tone was grim and rather foreboding. Unconsciously the soldier shuddered slightly at it.

[Suffice it to say that mark was what kept him alive while the nano-virus attacked his systems. Both of your earlier assumptions were correct. First and foremost it acts as an ambient healing factor. His rapid recovery made that obvious. You were also correct in assuming it to be a sort of mystic anchor meant to tie his spark to the material plane. For reasons you will eventually discover it is imperative that Galvatron be kept alive and functioning as long as conceivably possible.]

Cap had to respect the vagueness even if he didn't personally like it. He was experienced at reading between the lines but all he could glean from the deity's words was there was something wrong with the mech's spark that made it a priority he should be kept online until it could be corrected. What exactly was wrong with it he would have to ask.

And he believed Primus when he had said he would not like the answer.

With a determined nod of his head he thanked him for the clarification and jumped down from the tree. He stuffed the ID card back into his pocket and made his way back to his motorcycle feeling both enlightened from the information and worried because of it.

* * *

Wonder Man was showed back up the lounge and formally introduced to the remaining members of the team. Stark honestly hadn't been joking when he had described Galvatron as ludicrously restless. The whole time they were busy talking with the newest member of the team he was unconsciously fidgeting from foot to foot and his wings twitched almost every five seconds like clockwork. More than once his energy blade fizzled in and out of existence.

He couldn't recall Megatron ever being so antsy. But then he recalled Black Panther's words to him:

'_You most likely won't recognize him in either appearance or personality._'

This had to have been how the old pre-War Megatron had behaved. T'Challa's words had hinted as much even if they had been vague and very indirect. His new and strangely antsy behavior was literally his old personality resurfacing after millennia of being forcibly repressed and altered. This was how he had behaved before Unicron had corrupted him – before he had instigated a massive, long-enduring and bloody interstellar civil war.

This was the _real_ Megatron. Not the conniving and brutal alien warlord he had met in the past who cared nothing for collateral damage or casualties. No, here in all of his restless, fidgeting, and unable-to-sit-still-for-half-a-second glory was the original untainted personality.

"Oh good God….Galv! Stop. Twitching!" Wasp went over and physically held his wings in place by laying her hands on the main wing arch armor. "Am I gonna have to call Iron Fist over here to give you some lessons on taking it easy? Seriously! I swear you have some alien robot version of ADHD! Were you this bad before?"

"Oh, I was far worse – trust me. Optimus would say you're fortunate that I am actually staying in one place right now and not wearing a groove in the floor from constant pacing." Galvatron admitted lightly.

Hawkeye cracked up on hearing this. "Oh my God, dude. You are freakin' amazing!"

Iron Man personally knew what Galvatron was experiencing. Such extreme restlessness was not entirely foreign to the inventor though it had never gotten bad enough to devolve into idle jitters and/or nervous ticks. If anything those were the signs of some form of ADHD – just without the whole attention deficit part. He could pay attention to things as well as any other person.

Telling someone who constantly needed to be doing something or risk going completely bonkers to "sit still" and "relax" and "take it easy" was not only counter-intuitive but it was pretty much the same thing as telling Hawkeye to stop pranking people for giggles. It wouldn't happen because it was part of who he was – not mere habit but an intrinsic, deeply rooted part of his personality.

Galvatron relaxing was inconceivable and very near to impossible due to his programming. In his mind he could relax all he wanted to when he was dead, but until his spark was snuffed out he had to be doing something or he would lose his marbles within the hour – maybe even before that.

Stark decided to work with the restlessness instead of against it. "Alright. Geez. If you want something to do so badly go and find Steve for us. He hasn't reported in yet. I get the feeling the stubborn old warhorse is still looking for traces of Zemo. If you find him call us. If you find anything suspicious call it in."

With a distinct air of relief the holo-form flickered out. At last something productive to do!

Wonder Man shook his head in disbelief. This guy was on par with Wasp with his absurd activity levels. At this rate he would die from exhaustion instead of battle-related injuries.

* * *

It was easy to pick up the signal coming from the soldier's ID card, but it wasn't exactly where he had thought it would be. It placed him as roving around in the relatively nearby Appalachian Mountains in a manner that betrayed he was following something or someone. Could he have located Zemo?

Then for less than a second the signal cut out only for it to come back on almost instantly. It happened so fast he could've sworn he had only imagined it.

Of course, communication signals could sometimes cut out in badly covered regions – humans called such sectors "dead zones". Or perhaps whoever he was following had used an EMP or signal scrambler of some sort to short out the communicator in a failed attempt to keep the soldier from calling in support. Either of those options could be true.

Though it was strange why the card's signal had suddenly stopped moving….

'_Something isn't right._' He thought.

'_I concur. Keep your wits about you._' Primus advised with notable cautious anxiety in his voice.

But rather than make him edge away his curiosity only grew on hearing these words. He had to know what was going on. Heeding Stark's words he sent a data burst detailing his current heading and final destination coupled with information over the suspiciously idle signal. Then he cut the transmission and headed onwards.

He soared over to where the signal was coming from, transformed and dropped down into a wide clearing. Tall evergreen trees surrounded him. There was no noise – only the faint whisper of wind passing through the trees' needles – and there was no sign of the soldier at first glance, but then he took note of his motorcycle lying on its side on the other side of the clearing.

'_Something isn't right._' He thought again.

"Captain?" He called. A storm of warning bells were starting to go off in his mind and grew louder with every passing moment of eerie silence. "Captain Rogers?"

On a grim hunch he switched to infrared and focused on the overturned motorcycle. Behind it was a human heat signature – Rogers. Something was definitely wrong here. He didn't appear hurt but he was unconscious. He took a step forward and then stopped. His mental alarms bells were going ballistic at this point.

An unknown female male voice spoke from behind one of the nearby pine trees: "I'm afraid your human friend is rather indisposed at the time being. Oh, but I shouldn't worry about him. He's survived far worse than some instant anesthetic. You should be worrying more about your own life…."

And then there was an agonizing sting as something was shot into his back. All at once his motor and sensory systems crashed violently and he fell forwards onto the ground. It happened so fast that he never even felt himself hit the ground.

From behind their hiding spots at various points around the clearing a squadron of men attired in dark green uniforms emerged along with three dark green camouflage trucks. With militaristic efficiency they hooked up tow cables to the three trucks and attached them to the unconscious mech's shoulders. Then the vehicles' engines growled into gear and they began to drag their capture into a masterfully hidden underground bunker some distance away, tucked away at the base of the nearby mountains.

None of them ever took notice of the blinking ID card concealed under the fallen soldier's hand.

* * *

The Avengers were just finishing their introductions and protocol-related conversations with Wonder Man when all of their ID cards when off at the same time. They had received Galvatron's transmitted data burst earlier. No one saw it as coincidence that they were now receiving a distress beacon from Cap's ID card.

Galvatron and Cap had both definitely found something suspicious and one or both of them were now in danger.

What the heck was it with Galvatron and getting himself into mountains of trouble almost every single day without fail like clockwork? He seemed to attract trouble like a freaking super magnet. He'd also plainly known it was a trap of some form – he wasn't stupid and had connected the dots – but had gone in anyway to investigate.

"Avengers! Assemble!" Tony barked.

The lounge burst into flurried movement as each member readied for battle. Some ran to retrieve their weapons or gear while others simply vanished out the doors. These individuals would arrive first and act as both scouts and an advance force – Thor, Vision, Hulk, Wasp, Wonder Man and Ms. Marvel. Everyone else would follow soon after.

* * *

The scouting advance force arrived in record time at the spot where the distress beacon was coming from. It was an empty clearing in one of the few state forests. Tracks from heavy duty tires were visible but broken up as though whoever had been there had tried to cover them up but had failed due to them being in a rush. Everyone assumed these tire tracks belonged to the people Cap and Galvatron had detected and followed.

On one side of the clearing was the soldier's overturned motorcycle. Behind it there was a soft groan and then a red gloved hand appeared on top of it and gripped onto the handlebars as the owner pushed himself up to his knees. Wasp gave a cry of relief and rushed over to him.

"What happened? Where's Galv?" She demanded.

Ms. Marvel joined her and did her best to help the soldier to his feet. He had all the symptoms of instant anesthetic being employed to immobilize him. He was unsteady on his feet and obviously dizzy as all get out. He had to lean on the Major just to stay upright.

"They got him. They ambushed me – used me as bait to attract him." Cap said.

"Who?" Vision asked.

Cap shook his head. "I don't know. All I remember was their dark green uniforms and vehicles. They used instant anesthetic fired from a tranquilizer gun to knock me out once they realized I was tailing them. Whoever they were they weren't after me – they wanted Galvatron. They got him."

Vision set to work searching for clues while the others helped bring the solider to his full faculties. He sent the information to Tony so he could work out who exactly that description fit. He was rather surprised that Tony answered back with "No idea!" and relayed it to Ratchet, the inventor himself arriving only a minute later with the other Avengers.

"Alright. Everyone fan out. They couldn't have dragged him very far. There were no choppers so they must've taken him somewhere nearby and very well hidden." Iron Man ordered. "Look for anything that seems even slightly out of place."

Everyone nodded agreement and fanned out deeper into the forest in search of their abducted team mate. If these strange individuals had hurt Galvatron in any way thus far these guys would pay in blood. No one abducted their friend in broad daylight and got away it.

* * *

_Lights. Bright lights. The smell of the dank underground mingled with the burning of fossil fuels. And sound – the echoing sounds of voices and whirring machinery_.

Where was he?

With a hollow groan the mech slowly began to come back online. But when he tried to use his arms and hands to push himself up off the ground he found they were held securely in place by massive shackles bolted securely into the stony floor. So were his feet. It was pretty evident he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Blinking away the bright glare of the lights above he began to examine his surroundings more in-depth.

He was in a massive underground cavern that looked to be naturally formed but enlarged by artificial means. On a large and expansive network of catwalks dozens of humans attired in dark green uniforms strolled about on their respective duties while some were perched in darkness and held vicious looking laser-guided sniper rifles aimed at all of the weak points in his armor. Computer terminals were located at various points around the cavern and displayed his schematics and gathered readings.

"Ah. Good. You're awake at last." It was the same female voice that had spoken before.

"Who are you?" He snarled, trying in vain to strain his wrist shackles into breaking. Needless to say it didn't work. His shackles were surprisingly strong and well-made.

This vain endeavor made the voice chuckle. "Those shackles were designed to hold Optimus Prime himself. Triple reinforced titanium of the highest quality. They won't break no matter how much you struggle."

"Who are you?" He repeated.

"Cylas."

His optics narrowed. "That's impossible. Cylas is dead."

Out of the shadows near one of the computers a middle-aged woman emerged. Her hands were folded behind her back and her expression was cold and indifferent. She wore no full face mask like her companions and wore light military garb. Her grey eyes resembled steel.

"Precisely. Every leader of MECH is known as Cylas in honor of our founder. I was his lieutenant and now I command MECH as Cylas. And to avenge our leader's demise I intend to take you apart piece by piece in the name of science. We've already collected quite a bit of fascinating information on you as you can see."

She gestured to one of the computers where his schematics were displayed.

"What we're most interested in is your power core, however. We have yet to obtain a power core from a live Transformer, and yours is apparently different from the others we have studied based on the energy readings."

Cold dread settled in his spark. They were going to dissect him and forcibly remove his spark to study it or more likely weaponize its energy. He'd had dealings with the former Cylas but had never taken his organization seriously due to their failures and Cylas's pride.

This new Cylas was different – and in a bad way. She had all of the previous Cylas's dark craftiness and tactical thinking but none of the egotistical pride. Here was someone who accounted for all scenarios and left absolutely nothing to chance. This was a woman who wouldn't bat an eyelash as she slowly dissected a still-living being in the name of science.

He sensed Primus about to telepathically say something but he mentally shut him up for fear of the scientists somehow getting a reading of his communication. MECH could do what they wanted to the mech currently shackled to the ground and at their mercy. They wouldn't really learn anything valuable from him in the grand scheme of things.

But he would _not_ let them get a _single iota_ of data on the Creator.

Primus understood and went deathly silent and inactive, effectively using his spark's frequency and energy to hide his subtle spiritual presence. He wouldn't go so far as to completely disconnect himself from Galvatron – he still needed to work on re-synchronizing him to the Allspark.

Just sitting there idly and letting MECH tear apart one of his own creations was unacceptable. But Galvatron sadly had a valid point that he had to appreciate. If he put himself into the limelight no matter how subtly the MECH scientists would grab onto the new information in a snap.

Vainly the mech tried to open a channel to one of the Avengers. There was no reply other than static.

Cylas smiled cruelly. "Calling your little friends won't help. This entire bunker is shielded heavily. Not only does it block out your comm. link – it blocks out your life signal. I'd be very impressed if they managed to find you. I'd be even more impressed if they managed to get past the security systems designed specifically for them."

Galvatron decided to stall for a little more time before the dissection began:

"You won't get the information you seek. You cannot forcibly remove a spark from its shell without it fizzling out in mere seconds. And don't underestimate the Avengers. They know I'm missing and they most likely will have traced my life signal to this general region. Your security measures won't stop them – they'll do little except slow them down."

Cylas considered this before smirking. "Well it would seem I'm on a time limit then, aren't I? So enough idle chatter…."

"Open him up."

The machines around him whirred to life and the MECH officers on ground level set to work with laser scalpels and drills, cutting open sections of his armor to reveal Energon lines and nerve bundles they could study further. He couldn't feel the lasers or drills cutting into his armor, telling him they had disabled his pain receptors. He didn't know whether to be sorry or glad about this lack of sensation.

Two MECH soldiers set to work with stronger laser cutters on the thick chest armor that protected his life force, focusing on the nearly invisible seam that ran laterally down them. Cylas herself grew intrigued enough that she descended from her post on the catwalks and joined the two officers to observe their progress from a safe distance.

"What? Afraid of getting too close?" He hissed aggressively. This sudden spurt of noise and movement spooked the two officers into retreating temporarily.

"Not afraid. Cautious." Cylas corrected coldly, hardly paying him any mind. She motioned crisply for the two officers to get back to work. They did without a word of complaint and went right back to slicing open his chestplates with their lasers.

Galvatron watched in horrified fascination as the twin laser cutters finally breached his chest plates. A harsh reddish-purple glow bathed the inexpressive masks of the two officers. They stood aside for Cylas to come up and examine it herself.

Her grey eyes became a disturbing dark blood red color as they reflected his exposed spark. Her small, cruel smile became almost demonic in appearance as the light danced across her face. In that moment she wasn't human but something straight out of a nightmare.

"Incredible…." She breathed in wonder. "So much power condensed into such a tiny form. Beautifully done…."

She watched in silence as the power core pulsed and quivered like it was alive. So focused was she on examining it that she didn't catch Galvatron's nervous, near-terrified expression that passed over his face or his hitched intake of air that occurred when she drew a little nearer to it.

Then Cylas said two words whilst snapping her fingers: "Remove it."

An officer up on the catwalks nodded in reply and typed away on a keyboard that connected to some device or other in the bunker. There was a metallic groaning, creaking noise that echoed around and made Cylas smile maliciously.

Cylas watched eagerly as a large claw-like object descended from the ceiling towards the pulsing reddish-purple orb in the alien's chest.

She finally took notice of his face and saw the fright in his red optics. It was rather surprising to see a machine so frightened – even borderline terrified. Some miniscule part of her seemed to grasp that this thing was a lot more than just a power core for the mechanical alien.

Why else would he be so scared of having it taken out?

But science was science after all. And sometimes sacrifices had to be made it its advancement.

With slow and grim inevitability the claw drew ever closer to its prize. It stopped just above his spark. But instead of becoming a grabbing device the claws formed into a nozzle-like object that puffed out super chilled nitrogen gas.

It dawned on him with no small amount of absolute horror. He knew what Cylas was going to do to contain it.

She was going to flash freeze his spark with liquid nitrogen.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is short because it's a two-parter ;) I'm an evil authoress. :3**


	11. Chapter 11: The Return of MECH Part Two

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 11**

Cap was right in the middle of searching around the base of the mountains when it felt like his entire arm lit itself on fire. He let out a short, sharp cry of pain which made Hulk and Wonder Man whirl on him in alarm. Wonder Man understood something was seriously wrong and contacted Iron Man, telling him to get over to their position right now.

"He's in trouble." The soldier gasped, clamping a hand over the section the frantically pulsing mark on his upper arm in an effort to hide it. It hadn't hurt the last time it had lit up, and from the information Primus had given him earlier it no doubt meant that this time around Galvatron was in serious trouble and really in danger of offlining this time around.

Clearly this mark was more than just an anchor and a means of healing the mech when he was injured or near death. It was some type of danger alarm as well. Whenever the mech was in serious danger of his life it would flare up and burn as an incentive to find him and reach him as quickly as possible.

The sound of propulsion systems could be heard fast approaching his position. All three Avengers looked up to see Iron Man arriving with the rest of the team following suit behind him.

"Captain? Are you hurt?" Vision asked, approaching towards the soldier worriedly. From the way he was holding a hand over his upper arm coupled with the expressive grimace on his face it looked like he was hurt. But his scanners weren't picking up any traces of blood seeping between his fingers. He was, however, picking up a faintly increased heat signature from under his hand.

Cap shook his head adamantly. "I'm fine, Vision. Don't worry about me. We need to find Galvatron."

Vision looked skeptical but nodded regardless. Captain Rogers wasn't exactly renowned for lying outright so the fact he was so obviously lying right now was decidedly worrying. However they all had a bigger issue to attend to at the moment.

Iron Man on the other hand took even more notice of the lie and decided not to let it go so easily. Giving a curt order to Vision and Jarvis to scan the base of the mountains here he immediately set to work getting an honest answer out of the reticent, suddenly dishonest soldier.

"Steve. Lying doesn't suit you. Take the hand off. Let me see." He said demandingly.

Cap sighed in defeat. Tony was stubborn – he'd give him that much – and he did mean well in his demands. He was concerned for a friend. At the very least the two Artificial Intelligences were busy at work now trying to find the missing mech with the help of the others. Keeping this from his fellow Avengers would only come back to bite him in the future.

After all, he believed in the old adage of "Honesty Is the Best Policy". Lying might be convenient to start out with but it always caused trouble down the line. Plus, lying to his team was just wrong and not what a good leader should ever do. Trust was what made a team strong. Dishonesty tore it apart at the seams.

He removed the hand.

Behind the expressionless metal faceplate of the armor Tony's brown eyes went round in surprise and intrigue. He inhaled sharply. He had been expecting an injury of some form. He hadn't been expecting this.

Urgently pulsing golden-white on the soldier's upper arm was the weird glow-in-the-dark tattoo that had appeared all that time ago on Asgard. As he watched it would occasionally flash red and the soldier would wince every time. It was plain that for some reason it was causing him physical pain whenever it did so.

"It's some sort of warning system, Tony." He told him anxiously. "He's in trouble. He may be close to dead even."

Iron Man nodded in understanding though he was still astonished at seeing the mark again after all this time. Tony had no doubt that as bizarre as the information was it was one hundred percent true. He didn't leave his friend's side, instead collaborating wirelessly with the other Avengers in their search efforts.

He turned around with the intention of assisting his team in search efforts when Tony told him to stop mid-step. The inventor suddenly sounded excited.

"Your arm! Move your arm around! I need to test something." He said quickly.

Not knowing what else to do he obeyed with a quizzical expression on his face. He held his arm out in front of him towards the base of the mountains and then slowly turned it right and left. He was stunned to see the mark's brightness visibly increase and decrease with the different directions his arm was facing.

"Oh you sneaky little devil!" Tony cried happily, wildly pointing at the mark. "It's a tracking beacon too! It works just like the Key to Vector Sigma! Bright means right direction!"

Steve didn't bother asking how Stark knew how the Key to Vector Sigma worked. No doubt Jack or Arcee had told him about their little escapade to Cybertron long before they'd bumped into the superhero team over a year and a half afterwards. That wasn't what he was focusing on though.

He was more concerned about the fact that they now had a feasible means of tracking Galvatron even if they couldn't trace him by his life signal. It was no sonar or radar suite but it would work for their purposes. They just had to work fast – those red flashes were getting more and more frequent and more and more painful as the seconds ticked by.

His face set in grim determination as he pointed his arm towards the mountain. In response the mark become almost blindingly bright. Tony hollered for Hulk, Wonder Man, Vision and Ms. Marvel to come to their position on the double. They came in less than thirty seconds.

"Blast us an entrance."

They all nodded. Ms. Marvel and Wonder Man gathered energy in their hands while Hulk cracked his knuckles. Vision powered up his laser. In unison all three fliers discharged a huge wave of energy at one point at the mountain's base that the inventor was pointing to, obliterating the rocks into powder and revealing a thick metal door sealed tight.

Hulk took his cue and leapt for the sealed doors, pounding them repeatedly with his fists until they buckled under the strain. Suddenly revealed was a large and dimly lit passageway that led deep inside the mountain, easily big enough to permit a dragged Cybertronian.

"Vision, you take point with Cap and Hank. Hawkeye, Panther – stick close to them. We'll follow a ways behind."

Cap had no trouble with Tony giving the orders right now. They jointly shared command of the Avengers and often let the other take the lead if one of them wasn't up to it for one reason or another. Tony's orders were also ones he would've issued anyways. It was proof that the sometimes reckless inventor was truly grasping the concept of strategy.

Ant-Man called in a small army of ants and shrank down to ride one of the winged ones while Vision floated on ahead at Cap's side. Panther and Hawkeye slunk in behind the three. Everyone else waited until they were just out of sight before following them in.

Unseen by any of them was a twin set of motion detectors concealed in the stony walls….

* * *

Lying prone and unnervingly still on the stony floor of the hidden bunker was a great grey and black form with his arms and legs shackled. His normally burning red optics were dark. Ice coated his upper chest in a thin sheet. His spark was covered in a much thicker layer of nitrogen ice and pulsed faintly inside its frozen sheath.

He was alive – barely.

Cylas was just about to order the final dose of liquid nitrogen injected into the mech's spark when one of the officers up on the catwalks called out that the silent alarm had been tripped by numerous targets. She snarled in aggravation on recalling the mech's words:

"_Your security measures won't stop them. They'll do little except slow them down._"

She barked out an order to activate the security measures regardless. She needed just a little more time to get what she needed. Once she had this alien's power core she would wipe everything from the computers and flee with her discovery. It was standard protocol for all MECH facilities.

"Guard the entrance!" She ordered.

A small unit of soldiers rushed towards the big bay doors that concealed this main research chamber. All of the other officers remained at their posts to assist their leader in the final steps of the removal procedure.

* * *

Halfway through the massive mountain tunnel there was an odd noise that made everyone freeze in their tracks. It was a noise many of them knew instinctively by this point and it meant trouble was about to come knocking.

At every point around the tunnel a gun turret folded out of its hidden nook. Hulk, Wonder Man, Ms. Marvel, Thor and Iron Man took up defensive positions and readied to play bullet shield for their team mates.

And not a moment too soon. Right as they finished forming up their circular phalanx the dozens of gun turrets opened fire. Energy shots pummeled the defenders mercilessly in an unending rain that kept them pinned in their places. Fortunately the phalanx worked. No one inside of it was being hit.

"Hank! See if you can find the cables that power these things!" Wonder-Man said, firing off a blast that demolished one of the turrets. "They have to be powered by something!"

Ant-Man nodded, calling out to his insect horde to fan out and search the nooks and cracks in the tunnel walls. His helmet allowed him to effectively "hear" what they were saying to one another and allowed him to also give them orders as he had just done.

One of the scouts finally seemed to find something. Its pheromones told him it was something strange and unusual to it and it was keeping a safe distance from it until it was given an order to approach. Sensing this might just be what he was looking for, Ant-Man gave the order to approach and cut the cables.

Four of the turrets suddenly slumped forward and stopped firing. However the others continued to pelt the bruisers, completely unaffected. This meant that the turrets were powered in sets of four by separate power relays. Finding all of those relays would take too long. They were on a time limit.

"Hawkeye! Wasp! Open fire!" Cap barked.

Hawkeye gave a jaunty salute and drew his bow, readying three electric arrows. Wasp powered up her stingers. On an invisible signal they both opened fire at eight different turrets, blasting them to pieces. Now there were only a few turrets left to deal with.

Wonder Man took care of one, aiming an ionic beam at it and obliterating it. The remainders were dealt with by Thor who smartly used his lightning in a controlled chain reaction, electricity hopping from one turret to the next until none were left functioning. Smoke billowed from the now inert turrets and the damp underground air now smelled strongly of ozone.

Cap raised his shield in a short arc and forged ahead. "Let's move people!"

The soldier sprinted ahead with his team hot on his heels. Unconsciously he noted that those security measures had been dealt with a little too easily. There had to be more measures to keep them out than just a few dozen gun turrets.

He couldn't slow down though. His mind was too focused on reaching Galvatron. Any danger that came their way they could deal with just as easily as they had dealt with the gun turrets. Nothing was going to stop them from getting their friend back in one piece. If he died because they had been too slow they would never forgive themselves.

Tony shot ahead of him and then found himself trapped. It was the next security measure – and he'd tripped it on himself. From the looks of it, this was designed specifically for him as well.

This next obstacle came in the form of a high-powered, impenetrable laser grid that flared to life further down the tunnel, slowly constricting in on itself in the hopes of slicing the armor apart like Swiss cheese. Iron Man stayed remarkably calm as the lasers drew ever closer to his armor.

Visible in the distant, dimly lit gloom was a massive bulkhead door of solid titanium thicker than a bank vault door – obviously the last thing that separated them from Galvatron. Once they got Tony out they could head there.

Wonder Man examined the constricting laser grid with an intelligent eye. He noted that each laser was focused through a large crystal. Blasting all of those little crystals one by one would be far too tedious, and doing so might possibly trip another trap. There had to be a more efficient means of destroying them all at once.

"Tony, set your sonic emitters to their highest possible frequency." He suggested quickly.

Iron Man understood what Simon was thinking in an instant. Jarvis began increasing the frequency of his ultra-sonic emitters before Tony even told him to, raising them to their highest setting.

"Avengers, cover your ears." Jarvis advised.

Everyone nodded, clamping their hands over their ears.

The sonic attack was so high pitched that no one could hear it – they could only feel it via a strange sensation in their ears and in the backs of their skulls. Each and every one of the laser crystals shattered like glass, showering tiny shards over the tunnel floor. Their path cleared in the blink of an eye.

"Nicely thought up, Simon." Tony complimented, sounding impressed. Wonder Man merely shrugged.

They rushed towards the heavy, thick bulkhead door in a wave with the intent of ripping it right of its hinges.

This sort of obstacle wasn't even an obstacle to people like Vision or Hulk or Thor. It was nothing more than a mere nuisance that could be brushed aside like an annoying gnat. If these people seriously thought that a _bulkhead door_ of all things was going to keep them safe from a team of determined and over-protective Avengers they were sorely mistaken.

Hulk and Thor charged together at the heavy door with angry shouts and bellows, preparing to pound the door open with their brute strength. In perfect unison they assaulted the door, one with his fists and the other with an enchanted hammer.

Soon enough, Wonder Man, Iron Man, Ant-Man, and Ms. Marvel had joined them in their assault.

* * *

On the other side of the door the small squadron of MECH soldiers tensed and readied their weapons when the door shook and trembled from the powerful, combined assault of the heroes. Some even visibly resisted the overwhelming urge to flee like terrified children, this cowardly reaction only kept in check by a barked order from Cylas to hold their ground.

Behind them, Cylas and a sprinkling of scientists were gingerly manipulating a set of highly dexterous mechanical arms and slowly, carefully lifting a large ball of nitrogen ice that encased their ultimate prize from the alien's open chest. Inside of it was a faintly pulsing orb of reddish-purple energy. They could not – absolutely could not – rush this or they would lose the power core.

The bulkhead door managed to hold them back for only about fifteen seconds. With a thunderous _BANG_-_CLANG_ it buckled and toppled forward in a deadly wall of metal towards the waiting squadron. They managed to get out of the way just as it hit the stony cavern floor in a cacophonous and harsh thundering sound.

"Keep them busy!" Cylas ordered crisply, her focus more on the power core's retrieval.

Obediently the officers opened fire with their advanced assault rifles. All this attack did was further enrage the heroes. The entire team of heroes flew at the officers in a righteous fury that was surprising even to the occasionally observing Cylas. She had definitely underestimated their protectiveness towards their alien partner, and decidedly underestimated the effectiveness of her security measures.

She had expected them to stay together while going down the tunnel – not split up.

Hulk bellowed and grabbed one of the officers, flinging him farther into the recesses of the cavern. There was a dull, painful thud as the officer hit the stone wall and crumpled like a ragdoll. His rifle clattered to the floor.

Wonder Man and Ms. Marvel worked in near perfect tandem with each other, the former villain using his own ionic energy to power up the heroic energy manipulator so she could attack with greater strength. She herself seemed more than a little surprised at this cooperation from him, but not in the least ungrateful for it.

Cap, Iron Man, and Hawkeye were playing some sort of strategic game of tag team with each other in order to hit multiple targets at once. Iron Man targeted the soldier's shield with his repulsor to create a kind of sweeping beam of kinetic force. Any that this beam missed were quickly dealt with by Hawkeye's arrows.

Everyone else simply set about causing complete and total havoc while Vision snuck beneath the floors towards the woman who was obviously in charge of this operation. She was too busy working with the scientists to notice his covert approach.

The android waited a split second and then surged up through the floor, swinging a controlled fist at her to stagger her. Her bearing revealed her to be ex-military as did her returning punch. It was a futile action – he simply increased the density in his hands and grabbed her fist mid-swing, lifting her effortlessly off her feet.

"Surrender is your only option." Vision told her calmly.

"Is it?" She smirked. "I hold your friend's life in my hands. I hold all the cards."

Vision made sure his grip on her was tight and then turned to examine the nitrogen ice sphere everyone had spotted upon entry into the cavern lab. Concealed inside of it was something he remembered seeing back on Cybertron after their victory over Unicron. If he had blood it would boiling right now.

He turned back to face her, his blank white optics concealing his own anger and horror. This woman had the cruel audacity to forcibly remove a spark from a live Cybertronian's body by freezing it in liquid nitrogen? That was twisted to the nth degree, but at the same time Vision knew it was a safe method seeing as his spark hadn't extinguished.

Unethical perhaps. But it obviously worked.

Cylas watched in growing dread as the remainder of her scientists and officers were incapacitated. Every single one of them lay sprawled on the ground. Some were still conscious and softly groaning in pain at their non-lethal injuries. Others were still and completely motionless, lost in the blackness of unconsciousness.

"I still hold the power core." She reminded the android, her gaze steely.

Vision's white optics narrowed. "You no longer have command of the mechanical arms and as such you have no means of securing it for your own ends. All of your followers have been dealt with and I am currently accessing your computers and purging your gathered data from them."

"So no. You do _not_, in fact, still hold Galvatron's spark. _We_ do."

Cylas snarled, vainly struggling to free herself from Vision's iron grip to no avail. Her kicks did nothing to loosen Vision's hold on her – he remained firm and his expression was utterly impassive, betraying absolutely nothing to the woman as to his thoughts. For all she knew he was seriously debating ending her.

Cap called up to him, his voice tight and clipped: "Vision, bring her down here."

Vision obeyed, floating down with his struggling captive. Hawkeye fired one of his special bola arrows that ensnared the woman in strong bindings, allowing the android to release her at last. It finally seemed to sink into her brain that she had lost because she stopped struggling. Hulk remained close to her just in case.

And with that the other Avengers made a bee line towards the prone, deathly still form of their team mate. They had noticed his presence in the cavern from the moment they had entered it, but it had been a cursory examination at the time seeing as they had had a more obvious threat to neutralize.

Now, in the disturbing silence that permeated the underground cavern, they finally realized how very near termination Galvatron truly was. His body was cold and inactive. His optics were dark. Many sections of his frame were exposed, revealing the intricate cabling and wiring networks normally concealed by his armor.

And suspended above his open chest cavity by two mechanical arms was his faintly flickering life force sheathed in super cold nitrogen ice.

These scientific maniacs – whom Ratchet had earlier identified as the organization MECH – had very nearly _killed_ their friend while trying to "study" him in the name of furthering science for their own ends.

Wasp flew up to it. Gently she let one of her tiny hands hover over the ice sphere in the hopes of reassuring the juddering, plainly frightened spark within. Much to her surprise it seemed to work. Very visibly it appeared to calm down – like it could detect her presence through its icy prison.

"We're gonna get you outta there. Just hang in there, okay?" She murmured.

It pulsed faintly in reply as though responding weakly: "_Okay._"

Iron Man had already set to work during this very short exchange, opening a comm. line to Ratchet and supplying coordinates. He knew it was far too risky to attempt melting Galvatron's spark out of the ice entirely on his own without someone with more extensive knowledge on such a subject.

[MECH did _WHAT_ to him_?_!] Ratchet gasped, aghast at Stark's report. Then the link abruptly cut off.

Mere seconds later a groundbridge swirled open to permit the Autobot medic. He stood in horrified silence for a minute as he took in the scene before him. To him this place looked more like a torture chamber than a scientific lab.

Then he wheeled on Cylas in an almost murderous rage. His blue optics burned like fire.

"Do you have _any idea_ how _dangerous_ it is to _toy_ with a _severed spark_, you scrap-brained _waste_ of carbon atoms?" He snarled in barely contained wrath, armor plating flared out aggressively.

Cylas herself seemed more than a little stunned at his rage. Her steel grey eyes widened slightly.

Ratchet towered over her like an angry mountain, continuing his enraged tirade: "If he _doesn't_ pull through from this I'll see to it that you _don't_ leave this cavern alive. I'm _certain_ Fowler would be willing to defend my actions. After all – he _is_ a government agent….He could _sanction_ such an action…."

Cylas's eyes widened further.

Seemingly satisfied, Ratchet stalked over towards the mechanical arms that held Galvatron's ice-sheathed spark. He gently shooed Wasp to one side and then called Wonder Man over curtly. His ionic energy would be the ideal means of melting the nitrogen ice slowly without drastically lowering the temperature and risking it fizzling out. Vision's laser and Iron Man's inbuilt flamethrowers were simply too powerful and too hot.

Ionic energy was like fire without the intense heat. It was volatile and reacted with virtually any substance – including nitrogen ice.

Simon understood and concentrated a low-powered beam of ionic energy at the sphere. Slowly but steadily the ice began to not just melt but sublimate away. In response, the colorful sphere inside of it seemed to grow brighter, its color returning.

Encouraged, Wonder Man kept at it until eventually there was on a thin sheet covering the spark. Just before that ice sheet sublimated away Ratchet cupped his hands around it with utmost care, almost reverentially it seemed. He literally held a mech's life in his hands.

Ratchet knelt down beside the prone, now ice-free body of Galvatron. Very gently the old medic placed his spark back where it belonged, re-sealing his chest plates back into place while Iron Man and Vision welded the other exposed, cut-open parts of his body back together.

Then he silently prayed that the mech was strong enough to recover from his ordeal.

Cap approached the still unmoving body, extending a hand and laying it on the side of his cold helm. He felt a slight warmth from his upper arm that flowed from the faintly shining mark into the semi-offline mech. With a sigh he removed the hand, hoping against hope that whatever he had done had worked.

'_Come on, buddy. Come on back to us…_' He thought.

Wasp and Ms. Marvel both gave inarticulate cries of relief when a faint whirring noise reached their ears. Galvatron's previously gun-metal grey body regained its steely-iron color and small luminescent bits on his body reignited. Two ruby red optics flared back to life like burning stars suddenly bursting to life.

There was a sudden gasping sound as the mech sat bolt upright and drew in warmer air in to cycle through his unnaturally cold internal systems, intaking air for a good half minute in deep, ragged inhales. He could feel his weak spark tumbling around in his chest as it tried to re-situate itself there. He felt it start pumping the inert Energon through his fuel lines again.

For a brief terrifying second he didn't seem to recognize anyone standing there near him. Had reactivating him somehow made him lose his memory of them? Had Cylas damaged his processor somehow by removing his spark in the way she had?

Then he gave a gusty sigh of relief on seeing none of the heroes were harmed, falling back onto the ground with a noise unfiltered by translation programs – it was a sound of pure exhaustion and happiness that sounded like a strange cross between a soft feline purr and a contented sigh. His red optics shut.

He simply lay there silently drinking in all of the environmental data his sensory network was feeding his processor, the faint thrum of his systems kicking back into gear, the soft pulses in his chest as his spark finally settled back into place, and the warmth in it as a familiar presence made itself known again.

He was alive.

He was alive.

_ He was alive._

**Author's Note: No, PegasusDrive. I was not going to kill him ten chapters into the sequel. That would be irresponsible of me. I've got a much grander, more poetic death planned for him, and even then that won't be the end of him…. :P You can breathe easy now. :) **

** Secondary Note: I've updated my profile with information at the very bottom! Look there for important info regarding updates! :D **


	12. Chapter 12: Rest for the Weary

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 12**

_He was alive_.

That thought kept circulating around in his mind like a broken record, repeating over and over and over again in an endless loop.

Galvatron simply lay there with his optics shut for a good five minutes as he let his systems recover at their own pace. He also just enjoyed the fact that he could feel again and sense the presence of the Avengers and Ratchet. He no longer felt disconnected from all sensation. He no longer felt cold and afraid.

'_I believe it is once again safe for me to communicate with you?_'

He smiled faintly in amusement at the cautiously curious tone. Words alone could not describe how grateful he was to have the all-powerful little voice in his head back once again. He had felt so scared and lost without it. Now that the warmth was back he felt safe again.

Not having his Creator's mental aid, advice, input or even his faint presence for this horrific experience had actually been one of the most terrifying sensations he had ever felt in his entire life. No Avengers. No Ratchet. No Primus. No nothing. It had been absolutely terrifying to him – he who had never been afraid of anything – to suddenly have absolutely no one.

Never in his life had he felt so completely alone – so entirely isolated from anything and everything he found familiar and comforting.

He had been afraid. So very afraid….

'_I know, child. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. But I'm here now. You don't need to be afraid any longer._'

He felt the warmth increase in a comforting spiritual embrace that made any remaining tension in his recovering body evaporate like morning fog. Unconsciously he gave a soft little sigh of contentment. Everything felt normal again. He felt safe, secure.

'_And need I remind you that it was you who advised me not to draw attention to myself in order to keep me a secret from MECH? It was your quick thinking that kept me from inadvertently giving myself away, even if it left you isolated from me. That was very brave of you._'

Ratchet had silently contacted S.H.I.E.L.D whilst running a thorough diagnostic scan of the recovering mech. Aside from his chest plating being a little colder than normal and his repair systems being suddenly driven into overdrive inexplicably he seemed to have suffered no long term or lingering effects from his ordeal.

He would be a little weak for a few hours but that was to be expected after what he had gone through.

After what seemed like an eternity the mech opened his ruby optics again. He doggedly pushed himself up off the ground with some help from the old medic at his side – even if said medic didn't hold with him moving around so soon after having his spark forcibly removed and held in a sphere of nitrogen ice.

Galvatron stumbled a little when he tried to stand to his full height. He managed to catch himself on the medic's broad shoulders just in time, doing his best not to put too much weight on the smaller Cybertronian. Ratchet was a medic after all – not a living crutch.

"Easy, easy. Take it easy." Ratchet urged gently. "Don't push yourself." His voice grew gruffer but stayed gentle. "Honestly I've half a mind to bring you back to Hangar E and slagging sedate you so you don't hurt yourself. In fact, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Don't you dare try to argue with me about it."

"Don't argue with the Doctor of Doom, right?" Galvatron rasped amusedly. His voice sounded slightly slurred and glitchy as his vocalizer actively recalibrated.

Ratchet smirked. "Precisely."

Cap finally spoke up after staying silent for so long: "You get him back to Hangar E. Make sure he's okay before sending him back our way. We'll stay here. Wait for S.H.I.E.L.D. Help them round these guys up when they arrive."

Ratchet nodded. They had captured a good five dozen officers and scientists plus their acting leader, but MECH was large and as adaptable as his own species. There were still other MECH instillations all over the globe, each holding a varying number of members in each unit. In time another leader would rise out of the ranks.

For now though, they were leaderless. For now – they were no longer the threat they had been. Galvatron was safe from them for the time being. He had no need to worry about them.

He put a hand to his left audial receptor, contacting his little human assistant who was currently in charge of the groundbridge in his absence. "Rafael, activate the groundbridge."

[Activating arrival coordinates.] Rafael answered back, doing his best to hide his worry. Ratchet could only imagine how worried the boy must be about Galvatron. The last thing Rafael had heard from Ratchet in the hangar had been him hollering a vague exclamation concerning MECH's actions.

In the exact same location it had opened earlier to permit the infuriated medic the familiar vortex of a groundbridge swirled to life. With one final murderous glare at the bound Cylas, Ratchet vanished inside of it with his weakened patient, leaving the Avengers to secure the cavern and the defeated MECH soldiers.

* * *

Ratchet and Galvatron emerged into the confines of Hangar E and were instantly accosted by three exceptionally worried teenagers and an equally worried adult nurse. All four of them were demanding if the larger mech was unharmed from his ordeal. Was he okay? Did Cylas hurt him?

Of course, June's worrying was to be expected due to her medical profession. It was only natural for a nurse to be worried about a patient. But honestly the teens were just as worried as she was – maybe even more so. Miko's tactlessness was gone and replaced by genuine concern. Jack's trademark calm seemed ready to snap.

Rafael? He looked downright panicked.

Seeing them so worried about his well-being was equal parts endearing and gratifying. It showed they really did see him as an ally and friend and not just an acquaintance they knew through the Avengers or Autobots. He was a part of their little unit now – an adoptive family member.

"What happened to you?" Jack demanded.

Whatever Galvatron was going to say in reply was cut off by a glare from Ratchet. He needed to get his patient over to the medical berth so he could safely sedate him. Galvatron was in no condition to be up and walking about right now. Just by walking – just by standing, even – he was putting strain on his recovering systems and spark.

"Let me take care of him first. Then I'll answer questions." Ratchet answered curtly but not unkindly.

Jack nodded in acceptance. Despite not being a medical professional even he could tell how physically weak the large mech was. It was probably only his immense will-powered stubbornness that was keeping him from falling into stasis lock.

They all watched in tense silence as the medic slowly helped him over to a large slab of metal towards the back of the hangar. It wasn't really a bed but a comfortable exam berth that Team Prime had sent him from Cybertron. Apparently it was a little "house-warming" gift from Beta to replace the ones he had lost during the destruction of Omega One.

He already had one that he had constructed himself. Beta had given him a spare anyway.

With a glint of annoyed resignation in his red optics the grey and black mech let the old medic gently shove him down onto the berth. In his mind sedation was completely unnecessary, but only a fool argued with Ratchet when he was still infuriated. His field burned like a wildfire – so strongly that it actually made Galvatron uneasy.

"Stay." Ratchet ordered, pointing a finger at him commandingly. Then he stalked off to retrieve what he needed to put his patient in recharge.

Galvatron sighed submissively. He didn't move as per instruction. Doing so most likely would've been veritable suicide with Ratchet's current mood. He was actually pretty fragging terrifying right now.

A soft rumbling chuckle echoed around in his mind, followed by an amused voice: '_A little forced recharge never hurt anyone. There's no need to be so petulant about it. Ratchet is simply doing everything in his capacity as a healer to ensure you make a full recovery._'

He couldn't suppress quietly snorting in derision. Right….Sure….Because _forcefully sedating_ him was _absolutely slagging necessary_ for him to fully recover.

'_Now, now. Nobody likes sarcasm, Galvatron._' Primus scolded lightly. '_Besides, you have gone almost a week without a decent few hours of recharge. Ratchet will tell you that avoiding recharge for that long is not only unhealthy but dangerous. Think of this as a means of catching up on some much needed, well-deserved rest._'

Again he found himself incapable of arguing back at the deity's gentle reasoning.

Ratchet returned after a moment or two with a strange hand-held device that looked like a scanner of sorts that faintly buzzed and hummed just beyond the audible range of humans. He approached the larger mech on the medical berth and held the device over his helm for about ten seconds.

There was a faint, tired sigh from Galvatron and then his body went still, his red optics dimming slightly before shutting. Previously active systems quieted down. Only the faint thrum of cooling fans keeping key systems functioning could be heard from the otherwise silent form.

Satisfied, the medic withdrew the device with a relieved sigh of his own. He finally forced his agitated field back down to normal levels. Instinctively he swept his arm-mounted scanner's red beam over the still form to assure himself that nothing was wrong. He smiled softly on detecting a faint but noticeable energy signature intermingled with Galvatron's own spark frequency.

'_You guard him even now._' Ratchet thought warmly.

Then he turned to face the four worried humans clustered at his pedes only to find three standing there waiting for answers. Rafael was missing from the bunch. Where had he gone off to?

On a knowing hunch the medic turned back around briefly to see the young boy standing at the base of the medical berth gazing up at the great grey and black mech who was currently unaware of his surroundings for the time being.

Guessing what Rafael wanted he scooped him off the ground and placed him beside the recharging mech's chest. His guess turned out to be correct when the small boy made himself comfortable in the space between his arm and chest, leaning back against the warm metal of the sides of Galvatron's slowly rising and falling chest plating.

This was something Rafael had done more than once with other members of Team Prime in the past. While he mainly did this with Bumblebee it wasn't exactly uncommon for him to do this with any other Autobot he befriended. It didn't even matter if they were hurt – he just went to them.

On one rare occasion he had actually found him in the Prime's quarters back in Omega One a day or so after his return from the Decepticons, memory restored. The large Autobot had been dozing at his desk and the smaller human had been carefully tucked under one of his massive black hands. There had even been a tiny little smile on Optimus's face.

It had taken all of his will-power not to call Miko in and have her take pictures of the downright adorable sight. Not for blackmail but just because it was so sweet.

Ratchet had even noted that the boy's presence acted as a strange soothing factor that seemed to assist in the healing process or simply help the unconscious mech or femme stay peacefully under. He was like a therapy dog to a wounded soldier – a source of comfort and psychological healing.

"Well? What happened to him this time around?" Miko asked.

Ratchet turned back to face them, his expression grim as he gestured towards the slumbering form: "I will say this right now: That mech is _extremely_ lucky to be alive after what he endured."

"What'd MECH do to him?" Jack asked, reiterating his previous question. He cast a worried glance back at the – for now – peacefully recharging mech. Raf's presence seemed to be working.

Ratchet did his best to keep his demeanor calm and collected. Just thinking back on what MECH had done to him threatened to make his field flare aggressively again. His spark roiled within him in barely contained rage.

"What those Pit-spawned butchers did to him was something not even the most sadistic Decepticon on record would have the gall to do to a captured Autobot. MECH….." He growled unconsciously, not even bothering to correct his tone. "They froze his spark in liquid nitrogen while he was still conscious, encasing it in the cryogenic substance, and attempted to remove it in order to study it."

Jack's jaw dropped. Miko's eyes went round in shock. June's hands flew to her mouth. Over on the medical berth, Rafael gave a startled little keen that he quickly stifled.

Ratchet continued, eyeing the unconscious mech: "For what purposes I can't fathom, but those barbarians very nearly killed him just to obtain it. They were actually in the process of removing it when the Avengers broke into their 'lab', though I use that term very loosely."

"He was extremely lucky that they arrived when they did. Had they arrived even one minute afterwards he would've been lost to them – quite possibly for good." The medic finished gently, his tone of voice suddenly quieter.

And with that he made his way back over to his console to keep an eye on Galvatron's biometrics and spark readings.

June was absolutely horrified to hear this. Ratchet had previously told her about the condition of his spark and what it meant, along with some of the side-effects such a condition caused – such as it being somewhat weaker than a non-severed spark. It was more susceptible to damage than, say, someone like Bulkhead's.

Galvatron really had been exceedingly lucky to survive his ordeal at the savage hands of MECH's new leader and her cadre of followers. It was nothing short of miraculous that he had survived more or less physically unscathed. His internal systems had been the ones to take the biggest beating thanks to the liquid nitrogen.

That was the main reason Ratchet had forced him into power down other than to keep him from straining himself. It was to give his repair nanites some uninterrupted time to heal the damage.

"H-He'll be okay though, right?" Miko asked.

Ratchet turned in mild surprise on detecting the tension and fear in her voice. Miko's protectiveness of her friends had always been the one thing that made her tolerable, even if sometimes it resulted in her doing something reckless. She was displaying the same level of protective loyalty to Galvatron as she did to Bulkhead and Wheeljack.

For some absurd reason that surprised him when it really shouldn't have.

"He'll survive, Miko. He will." Ratchet reassured her. "He just needs some time to recover. If you want my personal opinion – I say he's far too stubborn to fall offline. You can't keep him down for very long. He's as stubborn as Wheeljack is. Galvatron will be back up and getting into trouble before you know it."

Miko nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. She jogged over to the medical berth and nimbly vaulted up to the top like a gymnast, joining Raf in his silent, comforting vigil of their unconscious friend.

With a knowing glance at his mother and a shrug Jack followed their example, though he chose a different spot than they had – he sat closer to his helm, keeping a gentle hand on the warm metal as though to ward off any possible nightmares that may plague him while he was under.

If anyone was deserving of a restful nap, Galvatron certainly deserved it after what he'd been through.

* * *

Any member of the human scientific community would tell you that dreams are the results of electro-chemical impulses within the brain. Dreams occurred as the mind attempted to review the day's events and prepare it for whatever came the next day.

Cybertronians processors behaved similarly when in recharge states, though their dreaming was the result of solely electrical impulses that occurred as their advanced minds sorted through all the gathered data they had absorbed.

They didn't technically need sleep on a day-to-day basis in order to function like humans did, but if they didn't go into recharge temporarily there was the risk of their processors overloading and overheating. Recharge for a Cybertronian was akin to shutting down an Earth computer to let it cool off.

Cybertronian dreams tended to be far more vivid in appearance due to how advanced their minds were. Where a human dream was vague and overly symbolic in nature, a Cybertronian dream was quite life like in the way it behaved and looked.

Right now Galvatron's dreamscape resembled a slightly blurry, slightly gloomy version of Iacon that betrayed his cloudy mentality. The imagined city was completely empty, devoid of life and movement. Above him glittered a rich mosaic of starlight against a deep bluish-black sky, but the mech took next to no notice of his surroundings. He was lost in his brooding.

He finally emerged into a hexagonal plaza and stood gazing into an ornate, silent fountain. Atop it was perched a beautifully made bust of Solus Prime, her hammer raised skyward. Her sightless metal optics showed fiery determination. Unconsciously he frowned slightly.

"A penny for your thoughts, child?"

Galvatron gave a small, startled exclamation, wheeling around to find the source of the calmly inquisitive male voice. He recognized that voice.

Leaning back casually on a sturdy but comfortable bench, one leg folded over the other, was a white and gold mech he had come to recognize as both a confidante and advisor. There was only one notable difference in his appearance this time around, and that was the wings – massive wings made of tendrils of pure white energy held in shape by glittering golden armor.

Galvatron stared at him for a moment in shocked silence.

The deity chuckled at his wide-eyed stare. "You don't mind my presence here, I hope? I sensed that you were troubled by something, and judging from how your subconscious looks I would wager there is something bothering you. Perhaps you would care to tell me of them?" He laid an inviting hand on a spot next to him.

Galvatron continued to stare at him. His red optics seemed a bit hesitant.

He unfolded his legs and leaned forward, smiling knowingly. "But knowing you – you would rather keep walking, eh? Your mind is just as restless as your body from what I can see."

Galvatron managed a somewhat dazed nod. He still found it so bizarre that someone with so much power acted so casual around others, like he wasn't some omnipotent god-class being with immense creative powers but just a regular, friendly mech you could bump into walking down the street one afternoon.

And here he was – casually inhabiting his subconscious mind like it was entirely normal and willing to listen to his troubles no matter how petty or vague or repetitive they might be and even convenience him by walking with him instead of keeping him in one place. He'd seen it once, he would probably see it a thousand times and it would never really make sense to him.

Because his troubled mind and subconscious really boiled down into the form of one infinitely simple little one-word question:

"_Why_?" He asked aloud.

As they strolled through the city at a leisurely pace, Primus cocked an inquisitive, almost playful brow ridge at him. "Why what? You'll need to be more explicit than that I'm afraid. You could be asking me any number of questions."

Galvatron sighed in mingled aggravation and embarrassment. There were some times this mech could really grind his gears – like right now for instance. He wasn't being mean of course, but his light, humorous attitude and playful jabs at him he found annoying sometimes.

"Why be so kind to me?" He clarified. "I haven't exactly done anything to deserve it. I nearly killed you, I nearly killed Optimus multiple times – frag, I nearly killed off an entire world's population twice over. If I were to list off all of the crimes I am guilty of we would be stuck here for quite a while."

"I thought Jackson already answered this question once before."

Galvatron sighed, hanging his head. He had, yes. But his mind was constantly confused by everyone's open kindness and generosity towards him. He was probably harping on something he shouldn't really be harping on in the first place, making a mountain out of an ant hill.

He looked up when he felt Primus lay a hand on his shoulder. His gold optics positively overflowed with compassion and warmth, and strangely enough there was faint glimmer of sadness in them.

"Because I believe that everyone deserves a second chance. I believe that no one is past redemption. If one of my creations strays from the right path, I believe all they need is kindness and guidance to return to that path. Call me childishly naïve all you desire. Those are simply my beliefs."

With that, the bundle of writhing emotion in Galvatron's spark finally snapped after being stubbornly contained for so long. He embraced the kindly deity, gratitude threatening to make his spark crack in half while a few coolant-laced tears trickled down his scarred face.

"Shhh. It's alright, my child." Primus murmured gently, embracing him back.

He simply held him while he slowly regained control of his emotions. This poor spark had suffered through so much in his life – pain, anguish, torture, loss, possession by his sadistic twin, and more recently nearly dying twice in the span of less than a day. He deserved at least a small respite. Keeping bad dreams away was the least he could do for him until he was resynched to the Allspark.

Galvatron finally released him, taking a slow intake of air to steady himself. He felt a little silly now – childishly embarrassed at his lack of control. But as he looked around the city began to slowly take a more definite shape, growing brighter and more distinct. His subconscious uncertainty was lifting.

"After all you've endured thus far I think the least you deserve is a restful recharge un-plagued by night terrors. Go on now." He used two tendrils of light from his wings to gently push him forwards. "I will keep the darkness at bay while you rest."

Galvatron watched as his body morphed into a streak of light that shot upwards, morphing into the form of a….Wait a nanoklik. Hold the phone. Was that an archangel from _Diablo 3_? Primus looked like a strange combination of Tyrael's physical appearance merged with Imperius's wing design, and actually it looked pretty slagging awesome.

'_Ah, so you do know about the Diablo series? Hm! Interesting._ _And thank you for the compliment._'

"I – erm – may have hacked into Raf's laptop." Galvatron replied aloud, chuckling guiltily. "I found he had some downloaded concept art from the third game. I can see where you would find inspiration from it. The designs for the archangels – the Angiris Council in particular – are very impressive."

'_I see. Do you have a particular favorite?_'

"Heh. Well, for me I think it's a tie between Auriel and Itherael – Hope and Fate."

He heard the deity chuckle lightly but he didn't say anything in reply.

With a smile he began to wander once more through the dreamscape city. Every so often he would look up to see a white and gold archangel soaring through the skies, lighting up the dark, starlit sky above like a brilliant falling star.

Maybe he could relax if only just for a little while. Besides, he had nothing at all to fear here.

Not with Primus on patrol inside his mind, driving away the shadows.

**Author's Note: Diablo 3 references! Yay! I've never actually played the game myself – I just read the wiki and watch playthroughs. And look at artwork. Galv just strikes me as the sort to find that kind of stuff interesting. *shrugs* :3 **


	13. Chapter 13: Magic and Metal

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 13**

June observed the three teenagers for a time in fond silence. Despite their past bad history with him they were already so close to the former Decepticon leader one would think that he had never once tried to harm them. Just from observing them one would think he had always been an Autobot.

Jack's past with him was rather complex. He had shown him a strange sort of mercy towards him in the abandoned mine. If it weren't for his involvement the entire crew of the Nemesis would have remained in stasis lock while the ship hunted down relics. And his bravery when the Decepticons had abducted him to bargain with Optimus over the Omega Lock showed just how noble her son was.

Miko was the one whose forgiveness surprised her. She had more of a tendency to hold grudges than the boys did due to her feisty temperament, so her open protectiveness and worry concerning the mech's well-being had honestly taken her aback.

Rafael probably had to worst experiences with him – after all, Megatron had nearly killed him with a blast of Dark Energon in the past – and yet he had been the first out of all three of them to go to his side while he slumbered, recovering from his near death ordeal.

And to top it all off, their presence actually appeared to be physically working – benefiting him. Never once did his neural readings or biometrics or anything indicate stress. One would think his processor might torment him with nightmares, going through such a traumatic experience.

But….no. Everything indicated he was recharging quite peacefully.

She turned her attention back to the amber and white medic. He was busy monitoring the mech's readings, and his attention seemed to be riveted on the readings coming from his spark. His expression showed he was very pleased with something.

"Doctor? What is it?" June asked quietly in an effort to keep the teens from getting overly curious. She had silently promised him to keep his condition a secret from them, and she wasn't about to go back on her word. June Darby was a woman who kept her promises no matter what.

Seeing Ratchet genuinely happy over something wasn't exactly commonplace and was noticeable enough to grab her attention right away. Something about all those readings coming from Galvatron's spark was lifting his spirits considerably.

He scooped her off the ground and placed her on his console. Then he asked in an equally quiet voice: "Do you remember what I told you about his spark being severed?"

She glanced over at the unconscious mech before turning back to the medic and nodding silent affirmation. She remembered – she remembered every word as clearly as if she had just heard him say it mere moments ago. It was a heart-wrenching condition for a Cybertronian.

"Yes."

Ratchet pointed at the live energy readings. He brought up his own spark energy readings so she could see the changes more clearly. He had shown her the mech's readings from before, and the nurse's memory was very good. He had every confidence she would recognize the changes.

And recognize she did. Her eyes widened as noticed what was slowly occurring. "He's…."

At that point Ratchet actually smiled – a broad, pleased grin that he didn't even attempt to hide:

"Yes, Nurse Darby. He's already corrected some of the damage Unicron inflicted on his spark. I don't know when it occurred precisely, but it is quite recent. His corrective treatment is working – slowly, but it _is_ working."

June smiled over at the still form on the medical berth. Maybe that explained how he had survived MECH's scientific torture of him. His spark had regained some of its former strength and resilience as Primus slowly but steadily corrected Unicron's dark spiritual curse.

"How much longer do you think it will take before the damage is fully reversed?" She asked.

Ratchet smile faltered, replaced by an uncertain frown. He shook his head, sighing:

"That I can't say with any real accuracy, June. It's unfortunate but there it is. I simply don't have enough information to theorize the possible timescale. I'm going off _one_ corrective waveform burst right now, and I don't even know when that one occurred in the first place."

June nodded slowly. "But it's working. That's really all that matters right now, isn't it? He's healing. It might be slow, it might be in bursts, but progress is progress no matter how you look at it."

Ratchet's smile returned. He looked over at Galvatron and his little sleep guardians. It was such a peaceful sight that he regretted that Optimus wasn't here to see it himself – he'd communicated with him earlier saying he was up to his audials in work and unable to pay him a visit to check on the two of them personally.

Ratchet could only imagine the Prime's gentle, fatherly smile if he were here to witness this spark-warming sight firsthand. He would be very proud of all four of them.

"Indeed."

He ignored the readings for the time being and simply enjoyed the peaceful sight to the fullest, knowing full well that it wouldn't last forever. He would wake up eventually. He would return to New York soon after that. And then the moment would be broken.

Knowing that he had a time limit, he silently took a few holographic snapshots with a data pad while he was certain no one was looking and sent them to Optimus. For rare little moments like this one, candid shots worked the best.

* * *

A few serene hours passed by uneventfully before the slumbering mech finally began to reawaken. There was a faintly audible whir as previously slowed or inactive systems sprang back into action. His shut red optics opened and looked around.

His tactile network was detecting three warm presences – two near his midsection and one near his helm. Deciding to investigate the one closest to his optics since it didn't require him to move he glanced diagonally downwards to see what the presence was.

What he found made him forcefully resist the urge to chuckle for fear of the sound disturbing the source of the heat. Leaning against his helm, lightly napping, was Jack. His facial expression was expressionlessly peaceful and his breathing was steady and even.

Examination of the other two heat sources showed Miko and Raf with their backs against his sides. Miko had one protective arm over Raf's shoulders. Raf's head leaned against her upper arm, his red glasses looking ready to slip off his face at any moment.

It was a shame to disturb them, almost criminal, but he had to get up and going now.

'_Just be gentle about it and they will understand_.'

Very slowly he positioned his hand lying at his side, keeping it flat on the berth, and lifted a single digit to push Raf's glasses back up before they fell off completely. These slight movements made the boy's eyes flutter open, and he looked about somewhat blearily before alighting on Galvatron's face.

One look at the mech told the boy he was definitely better than when he had fallen under. There was a certain bright shine in his ruby optics that hadn't been there before. He looked far more alert.

Raf attempted to try and wake up Miko, but stopped when he saw Galvatron smirk and wink at him. He had to hold a hand over his mouth to muffle his snicker.

The tween scooched out of the way to let a single large steel-grey hand lift and then descend over Miko's head, hovering there for a second like some looming metallic storm cloud. Then two digits lowered and tapped the top of her head.

Miko woke up as though struck by lightning. She gave a tiny stifled yelp of surprise, her head whipping around as she searched wildly for the culprit, hands waving around to try to chase away whatever had tapped her from above. She happened to look up and spot the metal hand hovering over her head. Playfully she shoved it away with a smile, figuring out what had happened.

Her startled yelp managed to make Jack stir and rather quickly come awake. His blue-grey eyes blinked once or twice as they got used to the brightness of the hangar, the pupils dilating and shrinking for a second until they set back to normal. Jack gave the mech a tired but grateful smile.

All three teens watched as the large mech sat up and looked around the hangar, taking note of the amber and white medic silently working away on something at his worktable, June observing the now awake mech from the table after hearing Miko's stifled yip.

"Feeling a little better?" June asked.

He nodded, swinging his legs off the medical berth to stand. He hadn't noticed just how exhausted his body and mind had really been thanks to the physical trials he had endured over the course of a few days. His systems practically hummed with energy now, his thoughts sharp as a blade.

Curiosity got the better of him and he went over to investigate whatever Ratchet was busy at work on. From afar it looked like a jumble of advanced machinery pieces, but up close revealed what it really was – or more accurately, what it would be once finished.

"Are those…?" He wondered.

"Weapons systems? You would be correct." Ratchet replied, welding together some pieces. "Suffice it to say your 'No Weapons' plight reached the audials of some former gladiators who survived the War and they have been sending me spare parts – Caliber has been the biggest contributor – and Shockwave was generous enough to provide each of them with the design specs for your old weapons systems."

Galvatron couldn't believe what he was hearing. These random ex-gladiators were going out of their way to help him get his trademark weapons back? He was speechless.

"These will take quite a while to finish. In the meantime I suggest you pay a visit to a certain Sorcerer Supreme. According to the Avengers he can summon weapons out of thin air. Until these weapons systems are complete, you might find such a trick very handy – that is, _if_ you can convince him to teach you."

His head tilted to the side in confusion: "Why would he need convincing?"

"He doesn't typically take apprentices unless they already have some understanding of magic. He _is_ the head of the Defenders after all, and each of them has a firm grasp of the arcane arts. They _have_ to be – to face the threats they do."

He said all of this without even turning to look at the mech.

However there was the bigger issue of Galvatron not knowing where the Sorcerer Supreme lived. He couldn't exactly talk to him if he didn't know where to find him. And it wasn't like he could just ring him up on his cell phone – something told him a Sorcerer didn't use such modern conveniences.

As if in reply to his unspoken question, Ratchet responded:

"I have the address of his residence. But I will warn you in advance – the Sanctum Sanctorum is no ordinary building. Its location makes groundbridge vortexes become inherently unstable, so I will not be able to 'bridge you directly there. A few blocks away is the closest I can get you."

Wordlessly the medic sent him a data packet containing the address of this strange building – this "Sanctum Sanctorum" as it was labeled. What an odd name for a building. It was apparently located on the west side of Lower Manhattan in Greenwich Village.

Personally Galvatron wondered what was so bizarre about this place's location that it made typically stable groundbridges _un_stable. There didn't seem to be anything all that special about it. Sure, the address sounded a bit strange – 177A Bleecker Street – but other than that there didn't seem to be anything all that unusual about its location.

'_You will see why soon enough. Or more accurately – feel it._' Primus said rather forebodingly.

A groundbridge swirled open for him. Just before he stepped through it, Ratchet gave him one last parting piece of advice:

"Oh and when you _do_ meet him – don't call him a wizard. He's a doctor."

* * *

Ratchet's groundbridge dropped him off on the empty rooftop of a five story condominium about six blocks away from his target destination. At this height he should be able to spot the building in question – a three story brownstone townhouse – but he didn't see anything that fit that description. All he could see where the Sanctum was supposed to be located were rows of red brick townhouses and apartments.

"Uh…." He wondered, one brow ridge cocking confusedly. Were his optics playing tricks on him? His target three story brownstone was nowhere to be seen.

'_Not in the least. You are looking the right direction. Go on ahead.'_

Still feeling hopelessly confused, he transformed and flew towards the red brick townhouses and apartments that somehow concealed his target building.

Personally he was feeling like someone who was being punked. There was no three story brownstone townhouse! 177A Bleecker Street didn't exist!

'_Yes, it does._' Primus chuckled, highly amused at his childish annoyance.

As he neared the location his onboard scanners practically went haywire, spiking and glitching from massive unseen waves of energy that he could physically feel. This unknown energy rolled off of a simple, rundown, seemingly abandoned apartment complex in titanic waves that he could physically feel – making him feel both energized and slightly woozy.

Of curious note was the emptiness of this particular street. It was like people were purposefully avoiding this particular area of Greenwich Village. Was it because of the energy? Could they feel it as well? Was that what was keeping them away from this building and the street it was on?

Then, while he hovered in front of this abandoned building, it was replaced in the blink of an optic by a looming three story brownstone townhouse. Its upper windows were dark, but the lower ones were brightly lit and framed by fine curtains. Twin gargoyles sat perched beside the steps that led up to a dark wood door with an old-fashioned brass knocker resembling a lion's head.

And right on the side of the door was a bronze plate engraved in slanting cursive writing that read:

_177A Bleecker Street_

_Doctor Stephen Strange_

He could imagine the deity smirking inside his mind as he said: '_I told you._'

Galvatron rolled his optics and set about investigating the building front. He tapped on the stones curiously and examined the gargoyles. There was nothing remotely technology based that he could find anywhere. How had it managed to remain concealed from his sight so well? It hadn't showed up until he had been right there in front of the blasted thing!

"Illusion-based warding spell." A male voice replied matter-of-factly. "Only when one wishes to find the Sanctum does it appear to them."

He stiffened and whipped around to find a tall middle-aged man standing there who hadn't been there previously. This man stood perhaps six foot one in height. His black hair held streaks of grey in it, and his cobalt eyes examined Galvatron like a scientist would an interesting specimen.

His attire consisted of a long, flowing steely-iron trench coat with blood red trimming that ran from the neck collar to the tails. Underneath that was an inky black undershirt accented with what looked like an unusual silver amulet resembling a single, shut eye attached to the chest. Long black pants were held in place by a silver belt buckle. Heavy black boots completed the outfit.

"Interesting that one of your kind would wish to find the Sanctum." The man noted, stroking his thin, finely maintained goatee. "What could possibly bring you here?"

'_He has a reason, Doctor. He desires to learn._'

Doctor Strange nodded. "Everyone has a reason to seek me out. I will let my own eyes judge whether or not he is capable of learning. Not everyone can be taught."

'_I understand. At least give him the benefit of the doubt. Let him try._'

The Sorcerer Supreme considered him for a long while in silence. His expression showed both doubt and intrigue. His trench coat fluttered in a non-existent breeze. His cobalt eyes narrowed as though searching for something that only they could see.

"Hm. Very well." Doctor Strange conceded at last, holding up one finger. "One practice session. If he shows promise I may consider taking him on – _if_ he shows promise. If not…" He shrugged, trailing off suggestively.

He swiftly spun on his heels, his steely-iron trench coat glittering as thought suddenly made of silver, and headed towards the dark wood door, gesturing briskly:

"Come." He said.

Doctor Strange promptly vanished inside the bizarre house like a grim specter returning to its favorite haunt. Galvatron stared in rapt fascination as the door suddenly grew in height to permit him with ease, the windows shifting to the side and the steps shimmering out of existence.

He hesitated just as he was about to step over the threshold, unsure now of what to expect inside. If the exterior of the Sanctum Sanctorum was this bizarre, who knew what the interior was like? This place seemed to be exempt from the basic laws of physics.

'_It is perfectly safe inside. Just follow him and you will be fine. I needn't warn you not to touch any of the arcane artifacts on display or stray from the good Doctor's side. You will find that paths here are ever shifting_. _Take the wrong path and, like the Athenian children in the old myth of Theseus, you will be lost in the labyrinth._'

Thus mildly encouraged – and slightly more alarmed than before – Galvatron stepped inside the Sanctum Sanctorum behind Doctor Strange. Unseen behind him, the door shrank and then closed before vanishing.

* * *

To the say the inside of the Sanctum was as bizarre as the outside would be a titanic understatement. It was absolutely insane compared to the relatively drab, normal exterior. It made his mind whirl and nearly glitch five times as he tried to process it all. Everything about it was impossible.

Strange strolled at a brisk pace beside him in the impossibly tall and wide hallway that seemed to stretch on to infinity. Doors constantly appeared and disappeared, opened and closed to reveal fantastical places inside that were most likely alternate dimensions. Weird objects stood on pedestals that exuded detectable energy – some good, some bad.

The Sorcerer Supreme glanced up at him out of curiosity and smiled faintly at seeing the large Cybertronian utterly speechless at all he was seeing, his red optics wide and his mouth hanging open. Oh, there was so much more to this place – this world – than he would ever fully know. On Earth, almost nothing was as it seemed.

That was the whole concept of magic – seeing something for what it truly was instead of seeing it for what it appeared, manipulating the currents of energy that flowed through the world to form something out of nothing, opening the mind to the so called impossible.

"How?" He demanded. "How do you fit all of this in here?"

"Magic." Strange replied simply like this explained everything.

Galvatron gave him a quizzical look that demanded clarification.

"I built the Sanctum here due to how saturated with mystical energy the ground here was. As such, this building is equally saturated with that energy. Think of it as a focal point where energy converges. There is so much mystic energy here that the normal laws of the universe degrade and bend to suit whatever the Sanctum feels is needed or whatever I feel is needed."

"Like enlarging the door and hallways? Those were your doing, but the vanishing doors and shifting hallways are the Sanctum's fault?"

Strange nodded. "Exactly. You catch on quickly. A good sign."

They continued on towards a large doorway that led into a large, dimly lit chamber. Strange swept in and set about igniting various lights around the chamber with simple waves of his hands. Soon the chamber was lit and more easily examined by the still wonder-struck mech.

It was very large and very elegantly furnished. Strange was evidently very well off from all accounts. There were various oddities scattered about the room at various points, including a small bowl-like fountain off on one side that flowed with water that seemed far bluer than was natural – it even seemed to glow, but it wasn't Energon. In the center of the chamber was an arcane circle made of glittering silver.

Strange finished preparing the room and then turned to face him: "Now, let's begin."

He unlatched the strange eye amulet from his shirtfront, shut his cobalt eyes for a brief moment to focus, and then reopened them, proclaiming:

"Eye of Agamoto! Pierce the veil with your eternal sight!"

Strange flung the amulet when the eye opened, the amulet ricocheting all over the room and narrowly missing the mech's ankles. It returned to the Sorcerer and latched itself back in place while Doctor Strange's attire underwent a drastic transformation.

Grey was replaced by black, and red replaced by dark burgundy. His trench coat was exchanged for more traditional-looking heavy robes embroidered with gold with a tall collar and cape. Hung around his neck on a gold chain was the bizarre amulet – the Eye of Agamoto he called it – now permanently open.

Galvatron had the grace to gape at him. Transformation indeed – his made a Cybertronian's look bland and _completely_ uninteresting!

"Now, why do you wish to learn?" Doctor Strange inquired. "What is your reason for delving into the arcane? He said you had one."

Galvatron held his arms out to show his missing fusion cannon and blade. "I have no weapons like this, and constantly relying on my holo-form is dangerous. It leaves my actual body vulnerable whenever I use it. I need a means of defending myself until Ratchet completes the new weapons systems, even if it is rather unorthodox."

Doctor Strange nodded comprehendingly: "I thought as much. I simply needed to hear it from you."

He focused and conjured an ornate blade out of thin air, performing a few strikes and flourishes with it before dismissing it back to oblivion. He summoned a second one and expertly flung it at a target on the wall, impaling it into the ancient wood. Then it, too, vanished.

"Conjuring simple weapons is one of the easiest lessons an aspiring battle mage can learn. You know even better than I that a blade can mean the difference between life and death in a fight. But where magic is involved, there are two different types of blades. The first you have already seen – simple melee weapons intended for equally simple close quarters combat. But the second type is far different and far deadlier. For example –"

He focused again and shouted: "Prism Blade of the Paragon!"

There was a loud crackling noise like lightning. Galvatron watched as a glowing blue katana-type sword formed in his hands, its hilt covered in pulsing markings. With a smirk the Sorcerer flung it at his helm, the mech jerking to one side just in time to see it whiz past unnervingly close to his cheek.

After a stunned moment the blade forced its energy outwards in a small explosion that left electric scorch marks on the wooden walls. And then, just like that, it disappeared, dissolving like a wisp of cloud like it had never been there in the first place – a figment on his imagination.

The Sorcerer stepped down, handing the floor to him. "Perhaps you would care to try now?"

Galvatron stared at him in disbelief. Magic came as naturally to this man as easily as transforming did to a Cybertronian. That was a foregone conclusion. But did magic come naturally to a Cybertronian – a sentient machine? Would he be able to accomplish the impossible feat of creating a blade out of nothing?

'_A thing is only impossible if you believe it to be so. Set your mind to something and anything is possible._'

"Well?"

Determination flashed in his ruby optics. He _could_ do this – he _could_! He just had to concentrate in the same way he concentrated to summon his holo-form's energy blade by envisioning what he wanted. Strictly speaking it was the same exact concept.

He shut his optics and concentrated on a sword, imagining every little detail of it as clearly as a photograph. He felt a strange tingling current surge through his entire frame and coalesce in his hands. He didn't dare open his optics to check until the tingling sensation stopped. When it did they went round in shock.

Held in his hands was a large Cybertronian falchion sword similar to the one Dreadwing had used, but this one was covered in pulsing lavender glyphs. Galvatron stared at it in pleased disbelief.

Strange's cobalt eyes widened. He smiled, clapping slowly: "Promising. _Very_ promising indeed."

* * *

**Author's Note: Oh, yes. Teaching Galv magic is actually very practical – as he said, constantly relying on his holo-form to fight is dangerous. Having Strange teach him how to conjure weapons is very practical in, not just the short term, but the long term. After all – if his weapons and holo-form are disabled, he's not completely defenseless. **


	14. Chapter 14: Waking Nightmare Part One

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 14**

Galvatron stared at the conjured weapon for almost a full minute in shock, almost not registering Strange's words. His expression was one of someone incapable of believing what they were seeing even though it was two feet in front of their face. He was practically frozen stiff.

He had literally just pulled off a feat deemed physically impossible by the laws of science – making something out of nothing by mere thought. That was something technically only possible by beings like Primus and Unicron – and he'd just done it pretty much flawlessly on his first slagging attempt!

'_See? I told you anything is possible if you put your mind to it._' Primus applauded.

But had he inadvertently helped him accomplish this?

'_Do I act like a cheat to you? No – you did that entirely on your own. I had nothing to do with it. I'm merely the observer and advisor here, Galvatron. I only directly intervene if your life or the lives of one of your friends is in peril. Other than that I am completely "hands off" if you will._'

But it had still seemed far too easy.

'_Remember what he told you? The Sanctum is so saturated with mystical energies that universal scientific laws break down and bend here. What you did was draw on some of that energy to form that falchion. Doctor Strange does this too – while here, his power is virtually limitless in its extent. That is how he keeps those magical wards going indefinitely. It is because the Sanctum itself, not he, keeps them powered. Outside of the Sanctum he draws energy from the world around him with the help of the Eye._'

Ah. That explanation made much more sense to him. Now he was satisfied. It hadn't been "easy" per say – the Sanctum itself had assisted him.

"I'm impressed. It took me more than one attempt to pull off a conjured blade. You did it on your first try. That shows great skill and talent, Galvatron." Doctor Strange complimented him. "My old mentor would have been equally impressed with your conjuring."

He motioned at him: "Do you mind if I see it?"

Galvatron knelt down and displayed the glyph-etched alien falchion blade to Doctor Strange who approached the weapon, intrigue shining in his cobalt eyes.

The Sorcerer examined it very intently with an expert's keen eye, running a hand over the shallow fuller of the blade where the glyphs were located. Those selfsame lavender glyphs pulsed softly like faint, slow strobe lights. He wisely kept his hands away from the edges and curved point as he knew full well this was a real and sharp blade and _was_ capable of harming someone.

Slowly he began to nod to himself. "All in all a very well-conjured weapon if I do say so myself. No faults in its design whatsoever that I can see. I'm not at all surprised. Due to your past as a professional fighter, I assume you have a wide knowledge of every variety of weapons conceivable, eh?"

"What about the glyphs?" Galvatron asked. "Those didn't appear on the normal weapon you conjured earlier. They only appeared on that Prism Blade of yours."

Doctor Strange patiently waited for the mech to connect the dots, tapping his foot and trying his best not to smirk. After a few moments of silence he finally did, his ruby eyes going round as a result. His jaw dropped.

"It's a magic weapon. I conjured a magic weapon." He realized with a start, staring at the glyph-etched falchion in shock. Then he blinked in confusion as questions assaulted his processor all at once.

What was the enchantment? What did it do? Did this weapon have a name like that Prism Blade of the Paragon? Or was it completely new to the world, unnamed and untested by the magic community? Did the glyphs actually mean something? If so, what? Why were they the same color as his holo-form's energy blade? Why hadn't it dissipated yet?

'_Whoa. Ow. Easy there, Perceptor. Don't hurt yourself. Strange may be a licensed doctor but I don't know how well he could treat a mech with a short-circuiting processor._' Primus chuckled.

Doctor Strange chuckled as well: "My thoughts exactly. Is he always like that when it comes to new information? That very nearly gave me a migraine." He rubbed his temples dramatically, wincing comically.

"As for your questions, this sword already has been documented and named as a weapon in a battle mage's arsenal – it's just not employed very frequently simply because of how difficult it is to conjure ordinarily. It is called the 'Falchion of the Fallen', and its enchantment is random, dependent mostly on circumstance."

He noted curiously the mech visibly flinch, utter an oath in his own language, and drop the blade as if it were a live bomb, backing away from it like it was suddenly a rabid beast and no longer just a random sword he had conjured. Galvatron's red optics were wide in what looked like….superstitious terror? Interesting…..

His grip and concentration now broken, the sword dissolved into wisps of grey and lavender energy that were blown away on an invisible gust of wind. He visibly calmed, though he still looked spooked senseless.

Doctor Strange cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at this unusual behavior. "Care to explain?"

"The Fallen – Megatronous Prime." Galvatron rasped. "One of the original Thirteen Primes. He turned traitor on them and joined Unicron. He was slain eventually in a combined effort by the remaining Thirteen, but at the cost of –"

"Onyx Prime – the Predacon Prime – being physically crippled for millennia, entrapped at the bottom of the Well of Allsparks and unable to escape." Doctor Strange finished, nodding slowly. "I see. You view that blade as cursed since it is indirectly named after this traitor Prime. You believe he might have wielded this particular weapon in battle. You are alarmed that you are able to conjure it with so little effort."

Galvatron nodded shakily. He sensed Primus about to say something to him, but he abstained from doing so for reasons unknown. He got the feeling that the deity wanted to tell him something very important yet was unable or perhaps unwilling to, maybe deciding he wasn't ready for whatever words he had to say to him.

Inquisitively, the Sorcerer reached out telepathically to communicate with ancient entity. Mentally he asked him what it was that he had refused – yes, _refused_ – to reveal to the mech at this time. His answer came in a flood of pure emotion – protectiveness, sadness, pride, affection, worry – and pure thought – flashes of select ancient history, events, happenings – together in a stream of information.

Strange suddenly saw this traumatized, brashly stubborn, intelligent, and valorously brave mech in a new light. His cobalt eyes widened ever so slightly, shock and wonder and sympathy expertly hidden within them.

Primus murmured inside his mind, his sadness and child-like pleading nearly making the Sorcerer's very soul shatter:

'_He cannot know. He is not ready to know. Knowing now would be the death of him. I will tell him when his time comes, and it will come. Vector Prime and Alpha Trion have both seen it. I only hope that when the time does come…that he has it within him to forgive me – forgive me for failing him._'

He nodded imperceptibly. He understood the value of leaving certain things unsaid until the time was right to reveal them. Some things were better left unsaid, untouched, and unsolved until they themselves wished to know the answers or until the receiver was deemed ready to hear those answers.

"Well. Now that everything's settled down, let's continue on, shall we?" Doctor Strange said briskly. "I did say that if you showed promise I would tutor you, and you show great latent skill. I formally accept the role of mentor to you. I'm not about to let such talent go to waste. I will teach you how to summon weapons."

Galvatron bowed his head in acceptance, the relief in his red optics showing he was happy to drop the subject of the cursed blade he had summoned with uncannily masterful ease.

"Thank you, Doctor."

* * *

This formal arcane combat tutoring went on for a good two or three hours. Strange had decided to start light with weapons because he had sensed the mech's life force fluctuate when he had summoned that enchanted Falchion.

Whether or not that had been a fluke, first-timer's side effect of summoning a mystically charged weapon or not he wasn't certain, but he wasn't about to put his life in danger in order to test it.

He simply all together avoided touching on the subject of the supposedly "cursed" Falchion. He understood it was a bit of a touchy, superstitious subject for the mech and his race as a whole. Megatronous Prime was essentially the archangel who had fallen from grace, tempted by power.

Instead Strange showed him how to conjure different normal blades and a few enchanted ones. He explained that the glowing glyphs that appeared held the enchantment and that the color was actually symbolic, unique for every battle mage. Each color had a meaning that reflected the mage's persona.

Galvatron's color of dark lavender suggested uniqueness and specialness – and oddly fragility – without the deep mystery of its darker shades like indigo or violet. Very dark shades of purple apparently revealed qualities of irritability, impatience, and arrogance, while very pale shades of purple revealed feelings of powerlessness, negativity, and apathy.

Apparently he was towards the lighter end of the shade spectrum, but not entirely washed out into the negative light end of it. It was a medium-dark shade of lavender that appeared as balanced between the two ends.

Strange amusedly pointed out that the deeper color saturation was no doubt his impatience, his loathing of sitting idly by and doing nothing, not because of darker aspects of his personality surfacing.

Unconsciously the mech sighed in relief. So the sword didn't belong to the Fallen because of the glyph color – it reflected _him_ and not the Traitor. If it had belonged to the Traitor Prime those glyphs would have been much darker in hue, closer to purplish-black than his own dark lavender.

"Out of curiosity, what color would Optimus's glyphs be?" Galvatron asked aloud. "White?"

'_Hmm. Considering his past as a skilled archivist and more recent history as leader of the Autobots, I would personally guess that his glyphs would be dark blue. Blue itself represents wisdom, but dark blue represents stability and unity. It also, amusingly enough, betrays him as old-fashioned._'

"What about Ratchet?"

'_I'd say a copper color. Such a color represents reliability, security, healing, and home. A medic is always viewed with a feeling of trust and safety due to their skill in repairing the injured or healing the sick. Ratchet may act the grouch, but he really does care about any and all under his protection._'

This glyph color discussion was getting more and more fascinating by the minute. He'd had no idea how major of a role color played in mysticism, or how accurately it portrayed one's personality. It was uncanny how accurate it was – practically as accurate as a psyche exam.

Strange smiled and conjured another enchanted blade – this one an ornate Persian shamshir. Pulsing along the length of the blade were dark teal glyphs. He displayed it for the mech to examine, levitating it upwards and letting it spin slowly in front of his face.

"Dark teal means sophistication, wisdom, energy, creativity, spiritual grounding, friendship, patience, and loyalty. Those glyphs form the spell known as the Icy Tendrils of Ikthalon, which entraps the opponent in a freezing coat of ice. Normally I would have to say the spell out loud if I were using it solely as a combat spell, but with it imbued into the weapon I don't have to. If the weapon strikes the opponent, it activates automatically."

"Observe…."

He lowered the weapon back down, grabbing the hilt. Aiming for a random target the Sanctum created for him, he flung the shamshir at it with a light grunt of effort. It flew through the air like a deadly dart, icy mist trailing off of the weapon as it shot towards the target board.

There was a bizarre sound akin to glass shattering the instant the shamshir impaled its target. As he watched, thick ice began to spread over the target board's surface like a frozen, all-encompassing tidal wave. In moments it was ensnared in glittering magical ice – every inch of it frozen solid.

Strange snapped his fingers and the shamshir, magic ice, and target vanished back into oblivion.

"Are you sure you don't want to try summoning the Falchion again?" He asked as gently as he could.

Galvatron hesitated, his wariness from earlier returning.

Strange hastened to both explain and calm him: "I ask this because the first enchanted weapon a battle mage summons is typically their primary one. Almost never does a mage consciously choose a primary weapon – on the contrary, that weapon chooses _them_. I know you don't like it, but it's probably your primary."

At that the mech capitulated: "Very well…."

He didn't look any less hesitant or wary about conjuring the blade again. Strange knew what he was talking about – he was Earth's Sorcerer Supreme after all, the world's leading expert on anything arcane or occult, and he was acting as his magic instructor. If he said the Falchion of the Fallen was his primary magic weapon…then it was, and he wouldn't argue with him about it.

He forcefully stilled his nervous processor, shuttering his red optics, imagining the blade with the dark lavender glyphs. Just as before, there was a tingling sensation that occurred in his hand. When he reopened his optics, the Falchion was there, silently pulsing away.

'_Could I put out there that you have quite the knack for this? Honestly, you're making him look bad._'

Galvatron managed a weak smile, holding up the blade. Oddly, it didn't look nearly as intimidating as it had before. "I suppose you could."

"Now, give it a few swings. See how it feels." His mentor suggested.

Doctor Strange summoned three large targets that floated at varying heights for the great grey and black mech to strike. He quickly moved to the other side of the large chamber to avoid being accidentally struck or stepped on.

Galvatron held the blade at ready. His spark began pumping Energon into all of his motor relays and into his combat subroutines, empowering them for the ensuing fight. All of his senses were now functioning at peak capacity. This series of actions was akin to a human forcefully entering an adrenaline rush state.

Then he swung the sword at the first target, slashing downwards and then sideways. He struck the second target behind him with the butt of the blade before spinning around and lunging at the third target. The sliced remnants of the three floating targets plummeted to the ground. He stayed in his lunged posture for a moment before standing back up.

He lightly tossed the sword from one hand to the other, twirling it around in a fluid series of graceful movements.

"It's _criminally_ well balanced." He admitted, grinning. He gave it another flourish.

Strange smiled at him sagely but said nothing. A battle mage's – or warlock's, to use the official term – primary mystic weapon was always going to feel perfectly balanced in their hands. If Galvatron were to somehow shrink it down to human scale and let the Sorcerer try it out, or even hand it to one of his own team mates, it would feel unwieldy, slow, and drastically unbalanced.

He was about to say as much when a noise from outside in the halls made him tense. Galvatron heard it too, and was both stupefied by it and somewhat alarmed, because it has sounded a lot like a horse's whinny, but far more nightmarish and haunting than normal. It actually made him shiver slightly.

Echoing behind this unearthly whinny was the sound of running footsteps, but this second noise sounded padded – like the owner was wearing moccasins or thick socks. It was detectable yet muffled sounding. Whoever this was wasn't bearing boots, but they also clearly weren't barefoot. If they were the noise would be far more distinct, much sharper.

All of this auditory information his senses and mind gathered, processed and evaluated in the time it would take a human to blink.

What came through the enlarged entryway first nearly made the mech's processor short-circuit as badly as it had when he had first entered the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Soaring in like a grim wraith was a pitch black stallion with burning yellow eyes. Grafted to the equine's sides was a pair of gigantic leathery bat wings that snapped loudly as it flapped them up and down in order to gently land. Around its muzzle and head was an elegant crimson bridle, and its body was protected by black and gold armor.

And in the winged stallion's exquisite saddle sat an armored knight of old.

One look at him told both the Sorcerer and Galvatron that something was seriously wrong. His armor was sliced and dented, and blood seeped out from numerous gashes on his exposed face and wherever there was light chainmail. He barely looked conscious.

"Dane!" Doctor Strange cried, rushing forward.

In response the winged stallion reared back while emitting another one of its nightmarish whinnies, nearly throwing its rider off in the process. It wasn't acting aggressively though. Quite the opposite – this strange equine was behaving as if something had spooked it pretty badly.

Doctor Strange set about trying to calm the creature before it could cause further physical harm to its injured rider:

"Easy, Valinor. Easy. Settle down." He said gently, slowly reaching forwards to stroke its muzzle.

His reassurances appeared to work. Valinor's – as this bizarre bat-winged black Pegasus was apparently named – heavy, anxious breathing and skittishness slowly went away. It seemed to realize that panicking would be of no practical use and posed a significant danger to his injured rider.

Valinor knelt and lay down on the floor, allowing Strange to remove the rider and lean him against the stallion's sides so he could treat his wounds. He snorted as though saying "Get on with it!"

Galvatron finally managed to look away from the fantastical creature upon hearing those muffled footsteps from earlier finally reach the chamber they were in, revealing their owner. Needless to say he was happy it wasn't another fantastical, processor-glitching creature, but just another superhuman.

This newcomer wore traditional green and gold martial arts attire coupled with a gold mask that fell halfway over his face, concealing his eyes but keeping the lower portion of his face exposed and visible to the world at large. On his partially exposed upper chest was an elaborate oriental dragon tattoo.

Despite being clearly worried about his knight friend, the newcomer gave a formal oriental half bow in greeting to the mech before rushing over to the armored man whom Strange was treating magically with what could only be healing spells.

"Dane, what happened to you?" Strange demanded.

The armored knight stirred weakly:

"Le Fay. Some half-wit freed her from her prison item in the Museum of Natural Science in the lower storage vaults. I tried to capture her, but –" He winced painfully. "I failed. She is gaining power from a pact with the demon Nightmare. All of New York, criminal, hero, and civilian lies in deep sleep thanks to her magic and Nightmare's as well."

Then….Then that meant that the Avengers were under this powerful sleep spell as well. His adoptive team would be unable to assist them. On the contrary, they were the ones needing saving this time around.

"Then why aren't we affected?" Galvatron blurted out. "Why weren't you and your friend affected?"

"In the first case – the Sanctum is mystically protected. As for the second – rigorous mental training kept both myself and Black Knight from falling under. I'm Iron Fist by the way. Daniel Rand, but everyone calls me Danny for short. You must be Galvatron."

"I-I…You know me?"

Iron Fist shrugged nonchalantly: "Word gets around, especially where Spidey's concerned. Pretty much every hero in Manhattan knows about your stunt at Ryker's thanks to him and his big mouth. He really thinks highly of you, you know."

"Danny, over here please." Strange requested crisply. "I need you. You can chat with him later."

Iron Fist excused himself and went over to assist the Sorcerer in healing Black Knight's wounds. How exactly he intended on doing that Galvatron didn't know. He _was_ detecting an energy field from the man, but it wasn't the same as the one Doctor Strange possessed.

'_That would be Daniel's chi field. Think of it as a bio-mystical aura that he can consciously manipulate. It was granted to him by the dragon Shou-Lao upon his defeating him._ _It can be focused into devastating attacks – his signature "iron fist" for example – or it can be used to heal an injured ally very effectively._ _To properly focus it he must remain calm, though._'

Galvatron nodded. He backtracked to a much more important question:

"Who are Le Fey and Nightmare?"

Black Knight was the first to respond to this question. He assumed a more upright sitting, wincing a little at his sore, battered body. Valinor snorted softly, brushing his inky black, velvety muzzle against his face to comfort him while the healers worked away silently.

"Morgan Le Fey is a powerful sorceress from ancient times. She was eventually trapped within an artifact by another sorcerer that is currently kept in the vaults beneath the Museum of Natural Science. Some idiot security guard managed to free her from her prison a few hours ago by removing the artifact from its holder."

Doctor Strange took up the second half of the explanations:

"Nightmare, the self-proclaimed King of Dreams, is a demon who forces his victims to relive their worst fears while they sleep in order to grow in strength. Unlike a normal enemy he cannot be defeated – merely banished."

He was silent for a moment as he casted another healing spell. Then he added:

"That he and Le Fey have formed an alliance is…troubling, and does not bode well for us. Normally Nightmare is restrained to his dream dimension, but Le Fey could help him stay anchored in our waking dimension. Defeating both of them will not be easy."

"So I suppose we will be targeting one before targeting the other." Galvatron guessed.

Strange nodded: "Yes. We will target Nightmare first and foremost, since he is the one funneling power to Le Fey. Remove him and her power diminishes back to what it used to be – still significant, but manageable. Banishing him first would also awaken those whom he is forcibly keeping asleep. At least, it should…."

"Le Fey is not anchoring him here." Black Knight provided. "It was the witch whom I fought with, not the sleep demon. He is using a mystic funnel to channel power to her. He is still in his dream dimension where he is at full strength."

The Sorcerer's expression darkened visibly. "Hm. This just became more challenging, then."

"How so?" Galvatron asked, not really following very well. "Can we not travel there?"

"Oh, yes, we can travel there – without having to be forced into sleep. But the risk is that the dream dimension is Nightmare's realm and as such he controls every aspect of it. While there we would be almost entirely at his mercy. I hesitate to let you come for fear of Nightmare gaining power from your tormented mind. I'm uncertain how well he could protect you there."

Galvatron winced, seeing his point. "I will handle Le Fey then."

"No. We cannot go after Le Fey until Nightmare is dealt with." Iron Fist pointed out. "Asking you to deal with Le Fey on your own while we deal with Nightmare is not only short-sighted but suicidal. You wouldn't last thirty seconds against her. She would put you under in a flash."

'_Daniel is correct, Doctor. Galvatron's mind may be tormented by his past actions, but he fears very little. Nightmare feeds on fear, not uncertainty. I admit that my protection will be limited there, however. If Nightmare does manage to bring out his deepest fears then there is not much I can do. But Galvatron is a born warrior – he does not give in to fear easily._'

Doctor Strange hemmed for a while in thought before finally agreeing that the entity had a very good point. Sending one newly fledged warlock against Morgan Le Fey was a terrible idea, and even if Nightmare managed to manifest the mech's fear as a combat tactic to incapacitate him, the entity firmly believed Galvatron would fight back with every ounce of willpower he had in him.

He truly hoped Primus was right.

Because when it came to Nightmare – bad dreams made manifest was just the tip of the iceberg in terms of his powers.

And considering some of the traumatic things the mech had both done and experienced in his life time, Nightmare would have a field day with Galvatron if he managed to break him, trapping him in a prison of terror and horror out of which there was little hope of escape.

* * *

**Author's Note: You wanted some Nightmare, GameMaster? Here. Have a two-parter! My gift to you for all the wonderful conversations you've instigated. :)**


	15. Chapter 15: Waking Nightmare Part Two

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 15**

It took a few more minutes to get Black Knight's injuries healed up, but as soon as the two mystic healers backed away he struggled to his plate-booted feet, using Valinor as a ballast and crutch. Valinor seemed more than happy to be of use to his rider, rising in sync with him.

"Dane, Le Fey did some serious damage to you. I would advise no strenuous activities for a while until you recover. My spells and Danny's chi only heal so much. You're still weak."

Black Knight shook his head obstinately, unsheathing a black sword from an ornate sheathe on his side. "I'm fine, Sorcerer. Le Fey needs to be dealt with, and to do that we must first deal with Nightmare. You need everyone for those two attacks to succeed – including me. My weapons and armor are designed to absorb magic and spells. Going into battle without me would be foolish."

Strange sighed exasperatedly, realizing he wouldn't be able to convince Dane to stay behind. Black Knight was physically weak but that didn't exactly make him incompetent. It was a wise policy to never underestimate those who appeared weak.

'_Let me see if I can assist him in regaining some of his strength. Lean forward and put one digit on him. I'm not sure if this will work or backfire stupendously on me, but it is worth trying at any rate. You need Mr. Whitman at full strength or your chances of success plummet into the single digits._'

"Question: Would it backfire on _you_ or backfire on _me_?" Galvatron demanded warily.

He wasn't exactly comforted when the deity answered back: '_Ah….I am uncertain._'

Galvatron rolled his optics. Oh, well that was so very reassuring. He was about to attempt something he wasn't even sure would work and quite possibly posed a significant hazard to the mech he was currently inhabiting.

'_Galvatron, by backfire I simply meant there is a chance it will not work. It poses no danger to you nor does it pose a danger to me. And I am not ordering you to do so. It is merely a request that is strategically advantageous to this mission's success._'

Well, when he put it that way….

He knelt down in front of the armored warrior and reached out towards him, explaining that a friend of his was going to see if he could restore some of his strength back to him. He didn't what he was going to do to accomplish that, but he was going to try so he could assist them in his full capacity.

Black Knight nodded comprehendingly and allowed one steely-iron, claw-like digit connect with his black chest armor. Instantly he felt something flow from it and into his body like liquid sunlight, revitalizing his weary limbs and muscles with newfound energy. It was a wonderfully invigorating sensation.

Then the digit was removed and the sensation was cut off. With a grin he hefted a black kite shield that had been hanging off of his back. He felt strong again and more than capable of defending his allies from Nightmare and Le Fey.

"Doctor, you and Iron Fist deal with Nightmare as you are more familiar with him. Galvatron and I will attempt to keep Le Fey occupied." He said.

"But Dane, that's idiotic and you know it!" Iron Fist argued. "You barely survived your first encounter with her even with your armor and weapons. What makes you think you can survive a second battle with her, and with a novice warlock who has never been in a duel before?"

Black Knight smiled wanly: "I said we would keep her occupied. I never said we would be performing a full, head-on assault or dueling with her."

Iron Fist sighed, burying his head in his hands with a hollow groan. There were some days that Black Knight made Danny's partner Power Man of all people seem compliant and level-headed, and today was obviously going to be one of those days. He had to give the man marks for his valor though.

Doctor Strange stroked his thin goatee as he considered this plan of attack. While he was hesitant to let Black Knight face Morgan Le Fey a second time so soon after his defeat, there was a lot of sensibility to the man's strategy of splitting onto two fronts.

First and foremost was Le Fey. She would be expecting Black Knight, but she would not be expecting a Cybertronian – especially not one who could conjure weapons. Galvatron was in effect the secret wild card who could very well turn the tables in Dane's favor in a fight.

Secondly was Nightmare. Iron Fist and Doctor Strange were both familiar with the sleep demon and had combated him before in the past. They knew how to see past his illusions that he used to break his victims in the dream dimension. There was also the fact that allowing Galvatron to accompany them would be a horrible idea. His mind was darker than theirs and more subject to Nightmare's mental attacks.

He also remembered the deity's words: His protection would be limited if he followed them into the dream dimension. Keeping Galvatron here with Le Fey was actually the safer option.

"Very well, Dane." Doctor Strange conceded. "Iron Fist and I will deal with Nightmare while you and Galvatron distract Le Fey at the Museum. Do _not_ engage her head on until I send word of Nightmare's defeat. Distract her only."

Black Knight nodded crisply, vaulting up on Valinor's back. Valinor reared back and unleashed another one of his nightmarish, blood-chilling whinnies.

Strange then turned to address his budding student warlock:

"Galvatron, Dane has far more experience than you do in mystic combat. Listen to whatever he says in terms of strategy because your sanity and your life _will_ depend on whether or not you can follow orders. Do _not_ try to be a hero while fighting Le Fey. It _will_ cost you."

The mech bowed his head respectfully, agreeing that he would not be foolish. Even a stubbornly brave gladiator knew when to surrender to a superior. He would gladly kneel to the warrior who had more experience under their belt. He knew he was just a novice compared to these mystic-versed men.

With a brisk, grim nod of his head the Sorcerer ushered the two warriors out.

Neither of the two men remaining in the chamber was by any means religious, but each silently sent up a short prayer that pleaded for both of their allies to return alive from their battle with the sorceress to whatever cosmic being might perhaps be listening.

* * *

Galvatron was very used to seeing New York in constant movement no matter what time of day or night it happened to be. It was the City That Never Slept, after all. In many ways the city was like a living organism in the way it functioned and appeared – even when it technically powered down for the night in appearance it still moved, still carried out its automatic functions.

To see it deathly still with no movement in the streets or buildings or parks or walkways was a shock to him. To him it was like looking at a dead body – like seeing the lifeless corpse of a friend who had been so wonderfully active mere hours ago. It was eerie in the extreme to see a city so active suddenly still.

And what was more eerie was the fog that permeated every inch of the city. Up in the air it was thinner, but it was still noticeable and frighteningly made his systems slow by a percent or two. This wasn't regular fog that had come in from the bay – this was magic fog.

"The Mists of Morpheus." Black Knight clarified, answering his silent question of what it was. "It is a well-known standard sleep spell, but it has been enhanced in both range and power by Le Fey's pact with Nightmare. That Mist is what is keeping the entire city in deep sleep."

"So if we were to remove it would the city's inhabitants wake up?" Galvatron asked.

Black Knight hemmed: "Yes, but for that to happen it would require Le Fey's defeat, or at the least her concentration to be broken. A sorcerer or sorceress can keep multiple spells going so long as they stay perfectly focused or have outside help maintaining the spells. With Le Fey – the latter is the case. Her outside help is Nightmare."

Galvatron's engine rumbled as he mulled this information over. There had to be another way to lift or at least weaken the sleep spell other than defeating her.

"You said she is being funneled power through some manner of siphon? What would happen if we were to disrupt that power siphon?"

"It might weaken her spells." Black Knight admitted. "But we would have to find the item that is funneling Nightmare's power to her first, and she would be certain to keep it fairly close at hand, much the way Doctor Strange keeps the Eye of Agamoto close to him."

Galvatron groaned in aggravation, realizing what that amounted to in a sparkbeat:

"That would most likely mean facing her head on, wouldn't it? Scrap."

Much to his surprise, Black Knight shook his head. "Not necessarily, Galvatron. Le Fey may be powerful but she is more cunning than brutish in her tactics. In her mind, keeping the funnel item on her body would be a mistake because she might be overpowered by an attack. To her – hiding it somewhere in the Museum would be the sensible choice."

He perked back up instantly. "So all we would have to do is find it."

"_You_ will have to find it. You are not equipped to face Le Fey in battle. I am." Black Knight corrected him in a deadpanning tone.

"If it emits detectable energy, I can find it. Any mystical item emits energy I can both trace and feel if I'm close enough." Galvatron reassured him almost smugly.

Black Knight's eyes narrowed behind his helmet: "It will not be easy. No doubt her hiding place for the item will be very well thought out and pretty impregnable, perhaps heavily guarded by secret sentinels such as dreamons – Nightmare's underlings. And the Mist will be strongest within the Museum itself, so maintaining alertness will be more difficult."

Black Knight tugged at the reigns and headed Valinor onwards towards the Museum, his massive mechanical companion following silently behind him.

With another haunting, bone-chilling whinny the black bat-winged stallion landed on the pavement just outside the Museum. While the Mist here was very thick, a few strong flaps of his leathery wings dispersed it into a much thinner, more manageable sheet.

He couldn't disperse it entirely, but he could at least make it less dangerous.

Black Knight hopped off the stallion's back, drawing his blade and shield at the same time. Beside him, his companion landed and transformed out of his vehicular mode. He saw his red optics narrow in irritation at the small doors that led inside the building – too small for him to fit through, and using his ghostly energy projection was just too risky with this accursed Mist slowing his movements. Leaving his actual body out here, exposed to its detrimental effects for a long duration, would be incredibly, inanely stupid.

"Take Valinor and go around back. There is a larger entrance often used by vehicles transporting various displays. You should be able to gain entry that way." He suggested. "I will meet you inside."

Galvatron personally wondered how much use a winged horse would be if he encountered trouble before reuniting with Black Knight. It was just an equine with a strange genetic mutation that resulted in wings. It wasn't exactly an expert strategist or combatant. Right?

'_Valinor may surprise you, Galvatron. He is far more intelligent than one would imagine at first and is very skilled in close range combat. He is also immune to harmful spells. Do not underestimate him._'

He decided to take the Creator's word for it even if it sounded utterly absurd to the mech, almost laughably absurd. This was a horse he was talking about here – a harmless herbivorous land mammal. An equine was an expert warrior who was immune to dark magic? Primus just _had_ to be screwing with him.

'_Do I sound like I am joking about this?_'

No. Not really. It just took a bit of believing.

Galvatron began to make his way around to the opposite end of the massive building. He didn't even have to motion for Valinor to follow him. Valinor simply cantered after him like he had understood implicitly what his rider had said he was supposed to do – follow him and protect him if the need arose.

Perhaps he wasn't giving Valinor the credit he deserved. At the very least he was showing the intelligence levels of a highly trained canine along with the obedience of one.

He found the entrance readily enough, grabbing the bottom of the lifting garage-type door and pulling upwards. Valinor snorted and stamped his hooves at the loud groaning and creaking of the metal lift door as though trying to tell him to be quieter in his actions.

"Sorry." He apologized quietly, realizing his error. Hopefully those – dreamons, right? – had less-than-perfect hearing and hadn't detected the noise, otherwise he had just painfully given away his position to the enemy.

Valinor snorted and trotted ahead of him with a flick of his tail, almost as though saying "I'll take lead from here on out, Mr. Noisy!" to him. His almost pert attitude towards him made a faint smile flicker in and out across the mech's face. This stallion clearly had a bit of a sassy side to him.

Judging by appearance alone was something he would have to learn not to do, because his previous conclusion about this animal had been entirely wrong. This wasn't just a beast – he was Black Knight's friend.

He felt the subtle warmth in his spark increase suddenly. He took it as a sort of pat on the back from his advisor for recognizing his own fault and desiring to correct it. Despite the danger ahead the fleeting smile returned. No matter what happened next he knew he wouldn't be alone. Valinor would defend him. He was sure of that now.

Little did he know that it was more profound and joyous than that. Little did he know that his cursed spark was being repaired – cured with each realization he made about himself.

Valinor led the way through the back hallways of the building in a brisk trot, unaffected by the thick Mist that permeated the corridors like a blanket. His hooves hardly produced any sound on the tile, which seemed in itself impossible. Metal on tile always produced sound, so why did his hooves sound muffled?

Galvatron himself wasn't as lucky when it came to the effects of the Mist. He had no mystic defenses against it, and his sluggish motor relays were proof of this vulnerability. Only Valinor's occasionally dispersing the Mist with his wings kept it from forcing the mech into power down and into the psychological death grip of Nightmare.

If he powered down then the whole plan went to the Pit. If he powered down in here he may never wake up again. Nightmare would do anything to get a hold of his mind and _keep_ a hold of it because of how much power he would be able to draw from it.

They finally re-emerged into the main entry hall of the building where Black Knight waited for them. He appeared to be on high alert, black blade drawn and shield hefted in defense. His entire body was tense, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Valinor cantered over to him and bumped him with his snout, breaking his tension by a fraction. Absent-mindedly he stroked the stallion's muzzle. His gaze was more focused on his mechanical ally who appeared to be showing signs of the Mist affecting him already.

That was not a good omen. While this alien machine was capable of using magic he didn't appear to have any sort of defenses _against_ magic, learned or in-built. Strange's advice to keep him out of the line of fire in a duel suddenly seemed very wise.

"This way." Black Knight motioned, starting off down another hallway. "Le Fey is near. I can sense her. She is in the Grand Gallery."

Galvatron nodded and began to follow after him only to have the knight bar his path with his sword, shake his helmeted head, and remind he was not equipped to deal with the sorceress. His task was to locate the physical object siphoning Nightmare's power to her so the fight would be more manageable. However he had to remain on high alert.

Black Knight would keep her busy until then.

"Be careful." The mech said.

The armored warrior managed a wry smile: "I always am. You are the one who needs to be careful while here, warlock. I'd rather not have to tell Strange that I failed in my task to keep you safe. An angry Sorcerer Supreme is no laughing matter. And I keep my word till the last, even if it results in my demise."

And with that gloomily valorous proclamation he headed deeper into the Museum with Valinor at his side, leaving Galvatron to split down another hallway in search of his own target. Unseen by either was a shadow slipping away from its hiding place beneath a display case.

* * *

It became apparent very soon that finding this siphon item would be harder than he had originally thought. There were so many items in the Museum itself, and the Mist was making his scanners unreliable by slowing them and making them glitch randomly.

'_Then use your field. You were able to feel the relics in the Sanctum thanks to their energy interacting with your own. It will require you to be in fairly close proximity to this item, but it is more reliable than your scanners right now._' Primus advised.

He groaned softly. That would mean checking every single exhibit in the building aside from the Grand Gallery where Le Fey herself was, since Dane would probably have figured out if it was there or not.

'_Perhaps not. I can assist in searching._'

Really? And how exactly did he propose to do that, then? His physical arrival would definitely tip Le Fey off if nothing else did – because a god-class entity suddenly popping in to help would _probably_ turn some heads in his general direction. His energy would be like a flare going off to her.

'_Indeed, and I have no desire to let her know you are here, either. I can enhance the sensitivity of your field to a certain degree, meaning you wouldn't have to be within arm's reach of the siphon item, but you would still have to be fairly close to it regardless. Any further sensitivity could be detrimental._'

Alright, that sounded like it might work to his needs. But it also sounded like there was a catch here somewhere that he was about to tell him.

'_There is. Your field is the only thing truly protecting you from the Mists right now. Enhancing your field's sensitivity will render you more vulnerable to its effects than you already are. That means you need to stay alert more than ever once I do so._'

"Scrap." He swore quietly. Everything always came with a price, didn't it? "Fine. Do it."

He didn't feel anything change physically, but his perception of the energy around him suddenly heightened to a much greater extent. He could now feel the mystic energy currently swirling around him like a dangerously tempting blanket. He could feel his systems respond – slowing down, becoming more sluggish.

'_Be quick about this, Galvatron, but stay alert. Do not let your mind slow like your body, because once that happens the Mists will take you, and then Nightmare will have you in his grasp. If you were to fall under…._'

"Right. Stay awake or I'm done for." He mumbled.

He began to make his way through one of the exhibits rather blearily. He purposefully kept his processor going at full throttle to keep the Mists from further impairing him, taking note of every little detail and examining it in depth. It was an exhausting strategy, but it appeared to be working. With all the information it was absorbing he would definitely need a short power down period when this was done.

He turned into the Special Exhibit Gallery where there was a display on Medieval Europe. Almost right away his field picked up something – a foreign energy that made his own tingle, but in a bad way. But where was it coming from?

He focused on one side of the exhibit first, but the foreign energy never increased. When he searched the other side, however, it skyrocketed in power, lighting his own field up like a flare. This side held different sets of knight armor adorned with various house crests, some holding weapons and shields.

Then he recalled the Black Knights words on Morgan Le Fey – she had lived around this time period, and had been banished around the same time. Such items were familiar to her, easily recognizable, and most likely the easiest items for her to enchant.

His field practically went berserk when he reached towards an ornate steel kite shield embossed with a green gemstone in the center surrounded by a crest. This was what he was looking for – the power siphon.

"Of course….What better way to hide something than in plain sight?" He realized, red optics going wide in what could only be described as a kind of admiration.

Such a tactic was utterly ingenious on Le Fey's part – the searcher would expect the hidden item to be so expertly concealed that they overlooked the obvious and passed right by it without even noticing, quite possibly multiple times. It was reverse psychology at its absolute finest.

But Black Knight's warning echoed through his mind: Le Fey was smart, and would expect someone to eventually stumble across this item. Someone as cunning as she would attempt to safeguard it from destruction or harm. Knowing that, this shield was most likely booby trapped with a spell.

There was no way around it that he could see – if he left the shield then Le Fey and Nightmare would continue to grow stronger, but if he destroyed the shield that booby trap would activate. It was a bizarre lose-lose-win situation he found himself in.

He carefully removed the shield from the stand and placed it on the ground, readying to crush the shield under his pede. He hesitated for a brief second to ask: "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

'_Most likely._'

"Frag."

And with that he brought his pede down like a mountain on the power siphon, crumpling the shield like tin foil beneath it. He instantly felt his field become less sensitive as Primus lowered it back down to normal levels in an effort to protect him, but at the same time he felt – and saw – a trio of spectral entities emerge from the battered item. Black Knight's guess had obviously been correct.

A female voice echoed through the halls towards him, shouting angrily:

"_Dreamons! Put down the interloper!"_

In a swirling spectral storm the three dreamons surged at him. Desperately the mech tried to block the attack to no avail. They passed through him like true spirits, invulnerable to physical harm – something Black Knight, Strange, and Iron Fist had neglected to tell him about.

He managed to conjure up the Falchion and was relieved to see it slice a dreamon in half, its body dissipating. Immune to physical harm perhaps, but they were decidedly not immune to arcane weaponry.

With a low snarl he slashed at the second one and then stopped to search for the third which had seemingly vanished. He felt Primus about to say something….

But he never heard it. There was a faint rush of energy as it felt like something struck him in the back of the helm. He felt all of his systems begin to power down into their recharging, idling states. His optics glitched wildly. His audials shut down. All of his motor relays crashed at once. His nerve endings and tactile network dulled.

He managed a creative curse just before the world around him was plunged into darkness.

In the very back of his mind a deep, raspy voiced chuckled and purred suavely:

"_Now tell me, Galvatron – what is it __**you**__ fear the most?_"

* * *

**Author's Note: Now comes the psychological aspect of this two-parter. Muahahaha! :3**


	16. Chapter 16: Waking Nightmare Part Three

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 16**

Black Knight sensed the siphon item shatter and Le Fey's sudden drop in mystic might further confirmed that she was no longer being fed power from the sleep demon. But he also felt a disturbing surge of magical energy and heard the witch's psychic cry to punish the one who had severed her from her enhanced source of power.

He blocked a bolt of mystic energy with his shield before hurling it at her with all of his might. It struck her squarely in the chest, winding and stunning her temporarily senseless. She fell to the tiled floor with a faint thud. Valinor cantered over and retrieved his shield, returning it to him with a whinny.

He knew she would not remain unconscious for long as the Mists did not affect her in the same way as others, but at the least she was out of the way for a good half hour. The Mists may not have been as strong on her – that did not mean she was completely immune to them, especially when unconscious. She would work her way around the effects like a true sorceress eventually.

Right now, his bigger worry was Strange's budding apprentice warlock.

He vaulted onto Valinor's back and spurred him towards where the surge of magic energy had come from, worry and dread and fear building in his heart. He had a bad feeling about what he found find when he arrived on the scene. Le Fey's mystic traps were dangerous and oftentimes lethal, but hopefully the trap spell was intended to simply incapacitate rather than kill considering her pact with Nightmare.

"Make haste, Valinor! We need to reach him!" Black Knight urged.

Valinor whinnied in response and quickened his pace into a gallop, skidding around corners and bolting down hallways at breakneck pace. Like his rider, he had also sensed the point of origin of the surge and did not need directions to the source of it.

The black bat-winged stallion skidded to a stop at one end of the Special Exhibit Gallery, rearing back anxiously upon spotting a great grey and black metal form lying unmoving in the middle of the long chamber. Beside him lay a shattered shield.

Black Knight's heart skipped a beat at the grim sight. He leapt off the stallion's back and rushed to the mech's side, worry and alarm marring his helmeted face. Was the metal warlock dead?

Closer examination revealed that such was not the case thankfully though that knowledge did little to lessen his mounting worry. He showed no signs of a lethal spell being employed on him. He showed no obvious injuries. But his air intakes were slow and shallower than he thought was normal.

Black Knight knew very little about the inner and outer workings of these mechanical aliens, having never truly dealt with one first-hand before now. However, he knew just enough to determine he was in a state they called "stasis lock" that was similar to a coma, and he was being forcibly kept under by the Mists.

What was more; there was an obvious fluxing of energy he could detect that betrayed the actions of a dreamon. Two piles of silvery-white powdery substance lay nearby – the remains of two the alien had slain with the use of his weapon. Obviously he had missed the third one and it had forced him to succumb before it had vanished back into the dream dimension.

How was he to awaken the machine from his coma?

* * *

_Darkness. Darkness all around_. _All around him was cold darkness ever encroaching like a slow, determined wave. Portions of it moved as if alive – flowing, living currents that swirled around just outside of his line of sight. Every so often there would be nearly inaudible whispers that he could not place, whispering soft words that he could not register._

_ There was no light anywhere. The only light came from his red optics. Faint anxiety flickered within them as the darkness grew ever closer. But he was not truly afraid. Not yet. He was merely on edge._

"If you think a little darkness is going to get you what you want, think again! A gladiator is not afraid of insubstantial shadows, Nightmare! Nor is a miner afraid of the dark!" He shouted out challengingly into the darkness.

Towards the edge of his line of sight the shadows trembled and a deep, raspy voice replied from seemingly everywhere at once:

"_Then perhaps I should try harder, eh? Tell me – what is it that plagues your soul? What is it that torments you in those brief moments of rest? What eats at you every waking moment?_"

Galvatron hesitated, doing his best to keep his mind and thoughts utterly blank. He should've known such a tactic was pointless when dealing someone like Nightmare who very probably knew his thoughts even before he did, but he tried regardless. And unsurprisingly it was to virtually no effect. He couldn't hide within his own mind. It was like trying to hide in broad daylight with no cover.

Nightmare read him as easily as an open book. There was a low, dark, and malicious chuckle:

"_Got it._"

There was a low rumbling and the shadows around him suddenly thickened, forming an all too familiar shape, but with obvious differences in appearance that made the mech shudder unconsciously at the sight of it.

Yet it wasn't so much terrifying as it was exceedingly unsettling and unnerving to see. It was incredibly disturbing.

It was himself, but not himself – an inaccurate mirror copy. His doppelgänger's alterations were far more pronounced and the modified mirror copy's optics, instead of Galvatron's standard ruby red, were a shade of deep purple that burned in undisguised madness. A dangerously modified fusion cannon sat on its left arm while a massive sword retracted from it's sheathe on the other arm. There was a cruel smirk on its face.

The altered lookalike laughed insanely and targeted him its fusion cannon, firing at the original with lethal aim. Its mad laughter only grew louder and madder when the blast struck Galvatron in the chest with the force of a charging bull and sent him sprawling. But rather than fall flat on his back he fell downwards through the enveloping darkness.

He finally hit solid ground with a pained grunt. With a faint, hollow groan he struggled back to his feet while the shadows around him shifted into an all-too familiar sight.

A mine. An Energon mine. A _Cybertronian_ Energon mine. What was more – it was one of the one's _he_ had worked in beneath Kaon. It was the one where he had first started to rebel against the caste system.

The shadows around him continued to form into numerous spectral miners blankly toiling away while burly overseers patrolled down the shafts like hulking sharks ready to lash out if some poor spark lagged behind in their work. Many of the miners he recognized: Barricade, Blastcap, Contour, Dragline and Torque – the list went on.

One of the miners he remembered all too well due to what had happened to him: Incline.

From the looks of things – that instance was about to play all over again thanks to Nightmare. And there was nothing he could do but stand there and watch as it unfolded before him. None of them ever took notice of his presence. It was like he was invisible – a specter himself.

If there was a Hell – this was it. Nightmare had just plunged him back into one of the darkest moments of his life.

Incline paused in his work for a brief moment to check his equipment. His drill tip showed great wear and tear from constant use. Incline himself wasn't a very large or heavy mech, his armor fairly light. He was a scouter rather than a full-blown miner – someone sent ahead into the tunnels to check stability or correct damage to the supports. He wasn't exactly delicate, but he was rather lightly built in comparison to the other miners.

This short pause was what had killed him.

"Get back to work, scouter!"

One of the overseers – a stocky, burly mech – easily slammed him into the side of the tunnel, leaving him dazed and disoriented. He recovered only to be floored by the same overseer who hefted him up once again and tossed him aside like a ragdoll.

There was a sickening crack as Incline's helm and backstrut hit the wall. He fell to the ground, motionless. Energon leaked out from beneath his helm. He was still alive – barely, all of his motor relays damaged. But total paralysis was hardly preferable to death, especially to a miner.

Then there was a furious snarl from one of the other miners nearby and the overseer was pounded back by a grey and black miner with blue optics, protective rage burning in them like an out of control wildfire.

It was him. Him in the distant past before the War had ever even started.

Galvatron could only watch as the overseer pulled out a small taser-like object and tried to plunge it into the attacking miner's armor, the miner blocking the attack expertly and adapting his tactics to compensate for the weapon – he swung his sharpened pick across the overseer's exposed neck.

The burly overseer let out a strangled choking sound as Energon spurted from his sliced neck cables and clogged his air intake vents, spattering onto the victorious miner's own body. His optics went dim and he fell to floor with a resounding crash, his color fading as his life force dissipated.

All around the spectral miners stared in shock at the sight. No one dared move or make a sound. The grey and black miner stayed where he was, shock and horror on his own face as he stared down at the offline overseer at his pedes – the overseer he had just terminated.

The miner rushed over to the motionless Incline, kneeling down as worry creased his brows. Incline remained still, but his jade green optics flicked up to gaze at him in undisguised wonder and fright. There was a strange expression deeper within them that the miner couldn't place.

Galvatron could place it, looking at it a second time – knowing, inner knowing. For a brief moment he sensed it wasn't Incline looking at his past self, but another.

Incline spoke in their own language, his voice soft: *_Put me out fighter, please, before the overseers come for me. I would rather my last sight be of a friend rather than an enemy. I know you will do it gently, as it is out of mercy. They will not show me mercy when they take me._*

The miner's blue optics widened in horror at what Incline was asking him to do – a mercy killing. Incline was requesting he terminate him before he was taken away and offlined by the foreman for no longer being of any use anymore.

Though paralyzed, Incline had managed to open his chest plates through processor commands so the miner could release him from his battered, broken form. His pale jade spark illuminated the kneeling miner's horrified gaze.

"Stop it!" Galvatron snarled, shuttering his red optics. "STOP IT!" He screamed.

Those were the first two deaths he was personally responsible for. One had been in self-defense – an accidental killing. But the other had been purposeful – a merciful execution.

"_Ah, so I've struck a nerve, have I?_" Nightmare taunted. "_Then let's strike another, shall we?_"

Beneath him, the ground trembled and yawned open and he fell once more through the great void of darkness. This landing was much rougher and he temporarily blacked out from the impact, which, judging by the cruel laughter was what Nightmare had intended to happen.

* * *

His optics reignited to find something awoke every chord of fear within him. This was another memory that haunted him more than the previous one, and it was far more recent. But again he was seeing it in the third person. Somehow that made it even more nightmarish in quality.

Ahead of him in the dimly lit gloom hovered a spectral imagine of his old self, before his reformatting by Unicron. Looming over it like a grim judge was the Chaos Bringer himself. Far beneath he could see his cold, life-less form sitting in the dark abyss of the Atlantic Ocean.

He wanted to scream out to his ghost self not to accept the deal, that the bargain Unicron would offer him was too costly, that it wasn't worth it, but he knew – he knew his scream would go entirely unheard. He could shout and cry and scream all he wanted and this memory version of him would not hear him.

His viewing scene was changed to where it was now first person and he was "seeing" out of the offline body beneath the waves, but his vision was blacker than ink. Nightmare wouldn't dare do….Oh Primus. No. He wouldn't…!

He howled in agony as dark energy surged through his body, repairing the damage done by the Star Saber and forcibly calling his wayward spark back, screamed as it was hideously altered by the Chaos Bringer to suit his purposes and desires. Then the pain suddenly stopped, and his vision went black again.

Slowly he came around, his vision blurred from the agonizing pain. He was back on the shadowy ground, no longer beneath the ocean.

"_Hmm_. _Deals with the Devil never __**do **__go as intended, do they?_" Nightmare observed rather smugly through the blurry, smoky darkness. "_You knew he intended naught but evil for both Earth and Cybertron, yet you still accepted his one-sided offer. And look what it cost you."_

"_Clearly you wouldn't know a bad bargain if it poked you between the optics._" He finished.

He snarled faintly at the insult. Then his vision went dark again as he submerged into the welcoming painlessness of mental oblivion, Nightmare's cruel, haunting laughter echoing all around him.

Nightmare mused thoughtfully: "_Now let's see. What's next on the menu…? Ah!_"

* * *

Black Knight observed the mech's expression alter slightly as the sleep demon tortured him psychically and without mercy – anxiety, pain, weak aggression. He could only imagine what Nightmare was doing to him.

He had vainly attempted to use the Ebony Blade to drain out some of the magic his body had absorbed by cutting open a line on his arm, but it was to little effect – the small amount of glowing blue fluid that had seeped out was too heavily tainted with the energy of the Mist, and letting out even more would endanger him.

Valinor had tried a different tactic to wake him – noise. But it had also done nothing.

In desperation he reached out to Strange, telling him of the danger the mech was in. The Sorcerer replied back rather curtly:

'_I know. I sensed him dragged here against his will. Danny and I will do what we can for him indirectly, but this is a fight he must finish on his own. Nightmare will not let us intervene directly. Victory alone over his fears will wake him._'

That response was less than satisfactory, but it was all Black Knight had in terms of reassurance. He would still do whatever he could to wake him regardless. For the longer he was under the more power Nightmare would drain and gain from him.

He laid a gauntleted hand on Galvatron's metal face, saying very firmly in an almost scolding tone:

"A warrior never allows himself the luxury of fear, warlock. Find that which gives you strength."

Unknown to him – his words got through.

* * *

'_A warrior never allows himself the luxury of fear…_._ Find that which gives you strength._'

When his optics lit back up he found himself in another all-too-familiar sight.

An arena. And on the far side opposite the mech was a red and blue mech he easily recognized, though he looked how he had in the past – less armor and younger looking. His inquisitive blue gaze was locked onto him for a few moments and then the red and blue mech rushed to his side, offering a supporting hand to him to help him up.

Courage flooded into him like a tsunami through the simple touch. Strength surged through his weakened frame like a raging solar storm.

Nightmare had just made a _colossal_ error in judgement. And it was going to cost him substantially.

"Wow. You misinterpreted _that one_ didn't you, Nightmare?" Galvatron called out into the empty arena stands.

His voice rose in volume, his voice ringing out over the empty arena stands and beyond:

"That isn't fear, Nightmare! That – what you're sensing – it's a little something called _respect_! Maybe you've heard of it? Oh, that's right – of course you haven't! Because _no one_ respects _you_!"

There was an enraged snarl from the shadows on the edges of the stadium. A thick shadow shot out from where it had been hiding and coalesced into a tall pale-skinned man in a tattered cloak, his burning yellow eyes outraged at the insult from his victim.

"I've made mistakes. I've done things I'm not proud of. I admit that freely." He stated.

He continued: "But I'm not afraid of him, nor am I afraid of you. You're nothing but a bad dream – a dark thought given physical form. You're not terrifying to me. You're _petty_, harmless. All of this is happening inside my mind – _my_ mind, _not_ yours. _I'm_ in control here – _not_ you. So, I'll say this once, and once only."

Nightmare was suddenly dragged towards the grey and black mech by an invisible force. Galvatron easily stooped down and plucked the petty fear demon up by the neck of his cloak. It was funny really, how weak and helpless he looked now.

The demon's yellow eyes went round in apprehension. He had never misinterpreted someone's thoughts before, and he had never had someone fight back – especially not to _this_ incredible extent.

"_**GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"**_ Galvatron roared at him full volume.

He flung the demon to the far end of the stadium with all his might where he impacted solidly against the metal walls separating the lowest section of the stands from the actual arena. His body crumpled.

"_**AND STAY OUT!**_"

Nightmare promptly fled from his mind in terror while the darkness around him lifted. Beside him, Orion gave a silent nod and smile of approval before vanishing like an apparition.

* * *

Black Knight nearly jumped out of his armor when Galvatron's red optics snapped back open. Valinor reared back with a whinny of delight. His optics burned with newfound determination and energy, along with very smug pride.

"Nightmare?" He demanded.

"Dealt with." Galvatron smirked proudly.

"Ley Fey?" He demanded back, pushing himself up off the floor.

"Probably recovering from the blow I dealt her."

"Then let's put this she-genie back into her lamp, shall we?"

Black Knight grinned, holding up an ornate steel sword. "Just what I was thinking."

* * *

They found Ley Fey waiting for them in the Grand Gallery where Dane had left her, floating in the air with the aid of her still formidable magical powers.

Upon spotting the knight striding in she fired off a bolt of energy that impacted his shield soundly but hardly made him stagger. Dane expertly flung his sword at her, hilt first, and it struck her in the chest. She growled angrily:

"Chains of Krakkan! Bind him!"

Glowing mystical chains sprung from her hand and leapt for Black Knight who first blocked them with his shield before slicing them apart with his blade. She kept casting spells at him in an unending flurry. She was distracted by him, so now was the perfect time to throw in his wild card and confuse her.

"Now! Summon your blade, warlock!" He ordered.

Le Fey's attention focused on a surge of energy from behind one of the walls. Her black eyes narrowed in suspicion. Galvatron emerged from hiding, glyph-etched blade in hand and smirking. Le Fey's eyes went round in shock at the sight.

"What? A machine cannot use magic!" She shrieked.

His optics narrowed: "This one does."

With an infuriated scream she lashed out at him, sending out shots of mystic energy at him in a merciless torrent. Each one he skillfully deflected with his weapon.

She snarled and summoned a miniature lightning storm around him, bolts violently striking the tile around him and seemingly entrapping him. She continued to hurl spells at him all the while, but each spell was deflected by his blade.

His obvious talent only served to further enrage her. She began to chant, energy gathering around her as she readied for a massive spell. Black Knight broke her concentration by flinging his Ebony Blade at her once more. She shrieked in aggravation. With the siphon gone, keeping her concentration on multiple spells and her two enemies was exceedingly difficult now.

"Not so easy now without your demon friend feeding you power, is it?" Galvatron taunted her.

"Silence, abomination!" Le Fey shrieked. "I do not need his power to end you!"

She readied for another spell, but at the cost of losing her lightning bolt prison. Yellow rectangles of energy manifested around her in a specific pattern and shone brighter with every passing moment. Le Fey grinned evilly:

"Crystals of Cyndriarr! Obliterate this monstrosity!"

Yellow energy from each rectangular crystal focused into a single beam that shot at him in an obvious ray of certain death. Just before it hit him he raised his blade up, held it at a specific angle, and watched in satisfaction as the yellow death ray was sent right back at the caster.

Le Fey gasped in alarm, moving out of the way just in time to have the death ray scorch a smoking hole in the wall behind her. She whirled back around only to feel herself being dragged through the air by something that then buried itself in that self-same wall.

She looked and found the machine's large, glyph-etched Falchion pinning her against the wall. Le Fey struggled and inadvertently activated the blade's imbued spell. Glowing red chains slithered out from it and constricted tightly around her – the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak, a powerful binding spell. It bound an enemy and prevent them from casting spells.

This….How was this mechanical monstrosity so gifted in the arcane? It was against nature, against creation itself! An object borne of science could never hope to grasp the full forces of the mystical and occult!

"No! No! I am Morgan Le Fey, arch-rival of the sorcerer Merlin and all Sorcerer Supremes of Earth! I am the one who raised Mordred who slew King Arthur in my name! I am the scourge of Avalon, the bane of Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table! I will not be defeated by an abomination of nature! I will not – !"

With a bored roll of his optics Galvatron motioned with a hand and a single thick chain barred across the egotistical witch's mouth, stifling her angry ranting mind-sentence.

"Oh do be quiet, lady. I'm not in the mood for monologuing villains right now." He said flatly.

She silently glared murderously at him, her mystic metal gag preventing her from emitting the old timey profanities she no doubt wanted to use on him. Her right hand began to glow with energy, but the Bands quickly stifled such an action, coiling around the hand and holding it back.

Black Knight stepped up to the metaphorical plate with the artifact used to imprison her in the past and that would now be used to imprison her once again. He held up the steel sword to the bound witch, the red gemstone in its hilt glowing in response to her presence.

With a muffled cry of outrage her body dissolved into tendrils of grey energy that the artifact hungrily devoured. Its red gemstone flashed in satisfaction as it absorbed her essence and trapped it. All was suddenly silent.

Both fighters heaved relieved sighs, knowing their battle was now over. Black Knight plainly resisted the urge to fall backwards onto the tile floor and simply relish the moment, instead vaulting onto Valinor's saddle with the artifact held tightly in hand.

"I will deliver this item to the Sanctum where Doctor Strange can lock it away to prevent this from ever happening again in the future. You had best return and check up on your own allies. He reports that your defeat of Nightmare drove away the Mists and he released his hold over the city in consequence, so they should be waking any moment if they have no already awoken."

Honestly that sounded like the best idea in the world to the mech. Friendly faces, the homey safety of the Mansion, and the thought of reuniting with his friends were things that he sorely craved right now. It had been a very eventful day.

"I would like nothing more." Galvatron replied truthfully. "Take care, Black Knight."

Black Knight nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Same to you, warlock. Let us hope our next meeting does not involve such dire circumstances, eh?"

Galvatron cocked one brow ridge. "You know that's just wishful thinking knowing my track record for trouble, right?"

He shrugged nonchalantly: "Hey, a man can dream, can't he?"

The mech groaned hollowly at him, holding a hand to his suddenly aching helm. "Too soon. Too slagging soon…"

Black Knight chuckled lightly, directing Valinor through the halls and back to the main entrance of the building. In moments his dark form and that of his equine companion had vanished from his line of sight, leaving him alone in the Grand Gallery.

Galvatron waited for a few blissfully peaceful minutes, enjoying the silence and the victory over his adversaries. Then with a short, determined nod of his helm he spun on his heels and headed for the display drop off where he had first gained entry into the Museum.

He had been away from his allies for far too long, and he yearned for their friendly company once more.

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, so technically this was a three-parter. And don't worry Pegasus. I'll stop assaulting your overly sensitive emotions for a bit. ;) We got some more baddies to capture, Chameleon to track down, and his weirdy hacker pal to find – who, by the way, is probably not who you think it is. I also got some one shot's to write :D**


	17. Chapter 17: Home and Hearth

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 17**

Galvatron emerged from the back entrances of the Museum as silently as a metal wraith, intent on avoiding any random passerby that might accidently stumble across him. He also had an unconscious desire to avoid any waking security guards. After all – he and Black Knight had done some minor damage to the institution during their battles with the mystic enemies. One bit of that damage was the shattered siphon shield.

He had no desire to be arrested over vandalism of private property. Hopefully the museum staff would understand when its destruction was explained later, but he wasn't going to hang his hopes on their not being mildly upset at him. It had been a necessity – true – but it was still destruction of private property nonetheless. Whoever had loaned the shield to the museum probably wouldn't be too happy with him.

He transformed and in a roar of his engines rocketed into the now Mist free skies, relishing the fact that his systems were operating at normal speed and capacity, and relishing his victory over both Nightmare and Le Fey.

Galvatron personally couldn't wait to tell the Avengers about his escapades and his newfound mystic abilities. He'd love to see the look on Tony's face he showed him the enchanted Falchion of the Fallen. Tony would go utterly ballistic over it, and no doubt he would try and hilariously fail to explain it away with science.

Far below, the previously inert city of New York was steadily coming back to life. People were once again walking down the sidewalks and operating their vehicles as though nothing out of the ordinary had transpired, though a good number looked confused or mildly dazed or even a little ticked off.

Evidently bizarre happenings such as mystical incursions that left everyone unconscious for a few hours were treated as more of a nuisance than a danger by the city's inhabitants. They saw it as just something uncommon that tended to occur every so often at random, and frankly considered it a bit obnoxious even.

He was rather surprised when a few police officers saw him and honked their horns up at him in greeting, waving at him from behind the windshields of their patrol cars. One even flashed his sirens on an off rapidly. He recognized them as some of the officers who had arrived at Ryker's to assist with the jailbreak.

Stunned but pleased regardless that the officers had remembered him Galvatron flashed his purple lateral lines back at them in reply before lowering in altitude and hacking their communication frequencies to speak with them over the returning bedlam of noise from the city.

"You are unharmed?"

[We're fine, Avenger. What about you? You look a bit worn down. And you sound exhausted.] An officer observed somewhat worriedly.

Galvatron sighed tiredly: "Let's just say I'm more the less the cause of the Mists of Morpheus dissipating so rapidly and suddenly. Being put down by dreamons and then fighting off a sleep demon and then battling a sorceress immediately afterwards tends to take a bit of a toll on the mind and body unsurprisingly."

[Wow. Kudos to you then, pal. Nice work!] Another officer laughed, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. An officer at this one's side clapped in congratulation, letting out a little cheer.

[Get on back to your friends.] The sergeant advised gruffly. [The NYPD is already going around ensuring no civilians were hurt during the incursion. Don't worry about helping us out. We've got this. You look about ready to fall out of the sky any second.]

Honestly, the officer wasn't wrong. He really was exhausted, but the exhaustion was more mental than physical. The main bulk of his battle had been mind-based in nature. And his strategy of absorbing so much information and then over analyzing it to keep the Mists from affecting him within the museum had left his processor practically running solely on fumes and willpower.

But he still hesitated. It seemed wrong to just ignore the countless civilians.

[Go on home, Avenger.] A female officer repeated gently. [You need to take care of _yourself_ once in a while, you know. I know you want to help us, and frankly we'd appreciate the help, but sometimes you've gotta put _your_ needs ahead of others, even if you think it seems rude.]

With that the sentient aircraft pulled away from the cluster of officers and headed onwards towards Midtown and Avengers Mansion.

* * *

Galvatron dove into the river and flew through the hidden tunnel to arrive in the underground launch bay. He had barely finished transforming when something small and black and buzzy sounding began to fly around him and spout off endless worried questions.

He wasn't hurt was he? Was he suffering any lingering ill effects from the magic fog? Had Nightmare done anything bad to him? He looked exhausted – what had happened? Was he feeling okay? Should Ratchet be called? Jane was here; perhaps she could come down and have a look at him? Or maybe Tony? Or Vision?

The mech watched the little size-changer flit around in front of his faceplates in a near mindless panic state with an expression that was equal parts amused and utterly exhausted. This was the fussiest he had ever seen Wasp act. If he wasn't so tired he would've laughed aloud.

He finally decided the best way to calm her down was to keep her in one place, and carefully grabbed her tiny body between two digits before she could zip to another location again. She finally stopped talking and looked at him intently, worry shining her eyes. Her wings refused to stop buzzing, though.

"Wasp, I'm fine." He reassured tiredly. "I am. I'm not injured."

She cocked a tiny, highly skeptical eyebrow at him, folding her tiny arms over her tiny chest and looking every bit the role of the doubter.

Obviously she didn't believe a word coming out of his vocalizer right now. In her mind, he was acting exhausted and that meant something was wrong. She was probably thinking he was suffering lingering effects of the Mists, and that gave her adequate reason to worry herself silly on his behalf.

He placed her on the tip of one of his digits, holding it up to his helm to address her fears and worry directly, but Wasp flitted off and flew up to his faceplates, hugging the warm metal to the best of her ability. He felt a few tiny tears slide off her face. Her fear and skepticism appeared to have evaporated, replaced by heart-felt relief.

"Don't you go wandering off into the city again without telling us, especially into Greenwich Village of all places – that's like the magic area of the city. Anything could happen to you there. Don't scare us like that again, okay? Don't scare _me_ like that."

Galvatron smiled faintly: "Eh, I'll try not to, but I'm not going to make promises I can't keep. And besides, I was there on Ratchet's recommendation. He wanted me to pay a visit to Doctor Strange."

He gently removed her, still smiling in an effort to soothe her. "I actually have a surprise for you and the other Avengers. Do you think you could call them in here?"

'_Galvatron, honestly – you need to rest. You can save the theatrics for later after your processor has had some time to recover from data overload and the absurd amounts of strain you put on it. Showing off your newfound abilities can wait for a while._'

He rolled his optics. "Oh hush you telepathic nanny-bot. This will only take a minute. It's not going to kill me. You can knock me out afterwards and keep me under as long as you slagging feel like. Alright? Deal? I won't even attempt to argue with you or fight back."

Primus sighed, though he chuckled faintly: '_Alright, alright. Deal. I hate it when you outmaneuver me like that. You offer me a bargain I cannot refuse because it benefits both parties in the end. You can show them, but I am putting you in power down right afterwards for your own good._'

"Fine."

Wasp and Jarvis set about contacting the remaining Avengers, relaying his desire to show them a surprise and explaining the reason why he was in Greenwich Village to begin with. Tony and Simon both seemed taken aback to hear that he had been there to visit Doctor Strange, Earth's resident master of the arcane – on _Ratchet_'s advisement.

That was the thing that told them something fishy was going on. Ratchet was a firm believer in science, even if he had a few harmless occult beliefs that frankly every Cybertronian possessed. Those kinds of beliefs were just part of their culture. But sending Galvatron to Doctor Strange? Why would he do that?

Both he and Wasp waited patiently as the other Avengers made their way down to the sublevels, their individual curiosities piqued and growing by the second and lending speed to their movements. What exactly was this surprise he had for them? Did it have to do with the reason he was with Strange?

In a few short minutes everyone was gathered in the launch bay. They seemed relieved to see him unharmed, but they also took note of his blatant exhaustion. He looked ready to fall face first onto the floor and sleep for the next eight hours. If Jane were here right now she would be ordering him to get some shut eye.

"Whoa. You alright there, pal?" Hawkeye asked, eyes widening a little.

"I've honestly felt better, but I called all of you down here to show you something you might find interesting."

He began slowly: "I already told Wasp this, but Ratchet decided I should pay a visit to Doctor Strange before I returned to base. He heard from you lot that Strange can summon weapons out of thin air via magic, and so he thought that such a trick might be useful to me until Ratchet finishes my new weapons systems. I just needed to convince him to teach me how by demonstrating I could."

Tony scoffed, but not maliciously: "Uh, yeah, sorry buddy. I did some research and 'Bots can't use magic unless they're Primes or something. They need a direct link to the glow stick to pull that party trick off. And you don't really have that. He talk to you, yeah, but you're not linked to him to that extent."

Galvatron smirked at him: "You know, for a scientist, you're quite the doubter. And frankly, I was just as skeptical beforehand. So imagine my total surprise – and his shock – when I found out I can do _this_."

He held out a hand, shuttered his optics, and focused. His tired processor ached from the mild strain of conjuring, but he doggedly pushed through it with some gentle help from his psychic counselor. He felt the tell-tale tingle of energy surge through his frame and coalesce in his hand. Then it stopped as per usual, informing him he had succeeded. He heard the Avengers gasp before he even opened his optics to look.

With a massive smirk he flourished the Falchion, swinging it in a few short but graceful movements.

"No. Way." Cap mouthed silently, blue eyes round in wonder. A huge smile formed on his face. Well, this would certainly put a kink in the combat works if nothing else did. This mech was just chock full of surprises, wasn't he?

"Since when could you use magic?!" Ms. Marvel and Wonder Man cried out in unison.

"Impressive." Thor noted appreciatively. "I had no idea a machine could so easily grasp the arcane. I think even Amorra would consider this a remarkable feat if she were here to witness it."

"Okay, _this_ we _gotta_ tell the big guy about! This is freaking awesome! We got a wizard on the team now! How cool is that?" Wasp shrieked, stunned and delighted at the same time.

Galvatron smiled at her, correcting her that he was not a full-blown battle mage but a mere fledgling warlock who was still in need of training and guidance. His specialization was not combat spells in the sense she was thinking, rather weapon conjuration. And he apparently had an innate talent for it according to Strange, which had surprised the Sorcerer to no end.

Honestly he was still shocked and confused that he could do this in the first place, not that he was ungrateful for the ability.

Tony still looked a bit skeptical. Everyone else was ready to accept this at face value, but he needed a solid, concrete explanation for Galvatron's newfound mystic powers. His abilities contradicted his research, and his logical brain didn't like that one bit.

He activated the armor's flight systems and flew around the black and grey mech while running a broad beam over his body. He idly noted a small cut on his forearm that resembled a wound made from a human-sized blade, but it had healed up almost entirely on its own. He'd have to ask about that.

He could easily detect the unique energy wavelength that betrayed Primus's subtle presence within him, but it was too faint to have permitted weapon summoning abilities. It was more like he was there just in his capacity to mentally and spiritually interact with him on a personal level, not to lend him mystic powers via purposeful design or accident or anything.

"Hm. I think I actually I have an explanation for you over why and how you can use magic, though it sounds a bit far-fetched and weird to be totally honest with you." Iron Man admitted.

"I'd welcome any clarification for this, Stark. Doctor's Strange's and Primus's coinciding explanations made sense to a _certain degree_, but I'd personally like a logical explanation grounded in hard reason."

Tony nodded. "Alright, call me completely bonkers, but I think this might be a positive side effect of your possession by Unicron. You remember while you were under his control you were able to summon weapons out of nothing? I think some of that power may have stuck with you even after he was removed. You have him to thank for your greater durability – why not this as well? Call it a residual yet beneficial side effect."

"That…huh. That actually makes a lot of sense, Tony." Ant-Man concurred. "Though it begs the question: Is this truly magic or is it some form of matter manipulation that acts a lot like magic?"

"It's magic. See these glyphs? Would those appear on a blade conjured through matter manipulation? I don't think so. When I battled Le Fey at the museum those glyphs released some sort of binding spell that ensnared her – glowing red chains." Galvatron argued smartly.

"The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak." Vision clarified. "It is a standard but powerful spell of binding. That appears to prove without a shadow doubt that it _is_ magic, Tony. That is a spell that any Earth spell-binder knows. Would Unicron know of or bother to use it? Very doubtful. That type of magic is considered 'light' magic, and as such it would not be something a being like Unicron would ever employ."

"Wow. Someone's clearly got a hobby outside the norm." Hawkeye teased lightly. "You research magic spells and what they do in your spare time? That's actually not something I would've expected from you. That's kinda neat, honestly."

"We have an in-house expert and we never knew!" Cap smiled, giving a short laugh and laying a hand on the android's shoulder.

Vision managed a faint smile and shrug: "It _is_ a fascinating subject to look into. And if I ever have any questions, Strange or Iron Fist is more than happy to answer them for me."

"Aww. You little magic nerd. C'mere you!"

Hulk quickly snatched the android and proceeded to give him a thorough noogie, Vision struggling in a rather half-hearted but adorable way in order to escape – even though he knew he could just phase himself out. It seemed that Vision was getting the hang of playful social interaction one hilariously cute step at a time.

"Come on! Let's give Optimus a ring and show him! He'll totally flip out when he sees this!" Wasp repeated, zooming over to the entrance to the Assembly Hall in an excited blur.

He took one step after her, and then:

'_Ahem._' Primus reminded him gently.

Galvatron sighed comically and rolled his red optics, recalling his bargain with him. He had given him his word and he wasn't about to back on it. A promise was a promise. It was for his own health and well-being, after all, and he honestly felt like he was going to keel over into power down at any second. Primus was just looking out for him and ensuring he didn't unintentionally hurt himself like any good father figure would.

No doubt he would probably do this with other members of Team Prime. Heck, he'd probably done this with Optimus on multiple occasions. He could almost imagine the Prime oh so gently and innocently trying to argue with him, and Primus pretty much giving the polite version of "Frack you, _I'm_ the boss!"

And a good hour or so of uninterrupted recharge sounded so very tempting right now…

"I'll have to show him at a later time, Wasp. Psychically battling Nightmare took a serious tole on my mind, and conjuring does put strain on my processor. I made a deal that the all-powerful little voice in my head could knock me out and keep me under for as long as he felt like." He said.

"And you are not one to go back on your word as we all well know." Panther noted sagely, understanding in his voice. Well he recalled the obstinate loyalty he had displayed at Ryker's Island Penitentiary surrounding Peter's safety. That extreme, obstinate protectiveness had very nearly gotten him seriously wounded.

Wasp flew back to the mech and gently placed a tiny hand on his faceplates, murmuring something too soft for human ears to catch but smiling nonetheless. No one even tried to guess what she had said because they all knew deep down what she had told him:

"Get some shut eye, big guy. We'll keep the watch. Don't worry."

Galvatron smiled faintly, rather clumsily shifting down into vehicle form and rapidly falling silent in a matter of a few seconds. A few moments later the faint thrum of cooling fans could be discerned over the rushing of water from beneath the walkways.

That told them all just how exhausted he truly was, and their stares were quickly replaced with sympathetic looks. The effort of psychically fighting Nightmare off had really taken it out of him in more ways than one. That wasn't the kind of combat style he was accustomed to. It had been a lot more conscious effort than he was used to. Physical fighting was no problem, but telepathic fighting was another story entirely.

"Come on guys. Let's let him rest up." Cap whispered, beginning to gently herd the others towards the lift. He eyed Clint closely, shaking his head in a silent order for no pranks. This poor guy was tuckered out and needed some beauty sleep uninterrupted by childish antics.

Hawkeye took this request surprisingly well, nodding back with an even expression that told he understood. The archer silently slunk away towards the Assembly Hall. He may be an unrepentant pranker who would do anything for a good giggle, but that didn't automatically qualify him as an out-and-out jerk.

He wouldn't have pranked the mech anyway. He had seen as plainly as everyone else how tired the mech had been, and he sympathized with him – in the same way he had sympathized with Knockout's post-deep-mind-scan migraine.

Everyone else crept out of the launch bay – some into the Assembly Hall with Hawkeye and some into the lift that led back up to ground level. No one dared head for the training rooms. That would cause far too much of a racket and might wake the mech up.

Tony, however, chose to linger. He wanted to run a few harmless scans and ensure Galvatron was indeed alright. There was no harm in it and he ran no risk of waking him up. Cap seemed fine with this if a bit strangely hesitant.

The soldier came over to him, a short and very hushed conversation ensuing:

"Tony if you find anything….weird, be sure to tell me about it, okay? I've heard in confidence that there's something up with his spark, and I'd like to know what without seeming nosey and going to Jane or Ratchet. It's pretty clear that Galvatron won't readily talk about it even to us, and I don't want to appear to pry into something uncomfortable to him."

"Alright, yeah. Will do, Steve. I'd avoid asking the Doc about something like that, too. That might be a bit of a touchy subject for him. I'll keep you posted about anything I find. Keep your ID card on standby mode. I'll keep it in confidence for you – need-to-know basis only."

"Thanks, Tony."

With that the soldier headed for the lift and was soon gone.

Iron Man called up the AI on his armor HUD: "Jarvis, need-to-know basis only about the results of these scans. Got that, buddy? No snitching, not to Vision, and especially not to the kids."

"Indeed, sir."

"Good. Begin full system diagnostic scan."

* * *

Jarvis didn't immediately start out with scanning the mech's spark. Working on a silent hunch-like instinct he picked up from Tony, he started out with the simplest course of investigation – his exterior armor plating. He found only minor scuffs and dutifully took note of the same cut injury Tony had.

This wasn't anything new, but the mech's weapons systems he had possessed before his reformatting were absent. It wasn't new information, but it made sense why Ratchet would advise Galvatron to visit Doctor Strange now. Doctor Strange had provided a solution to the problem in a very unique way.

Jarvis's scans went steadily deeper, exploring and analyzing the mech's main internal systems with a fine-toothed comb. It came as a horrendous shock to realize that such thoroughness was completely unnecessary. Galvatron's internal problems stood out like a bloody fireworks display they were so blatant and numerous.

"Find anything significant yet, Jarvis?" Tony asked quietly.

"Yes, sir." Jarvis diligently uploaded the thus-far gathered data, gently but grimly warning Stark that he would not like what he was going to be seeing. He also quietly relayed his discoveries to Rogers as per previous instructions.

Tony drew in a sharp breath as he looked the incoming information over. Though warned beforehand, he hadn't been expecting so much internal damage. Pity began to build in his heart, but it was promptly drowned out in a flood of seething rage.

Malfunctioning tracking systems. Damaged repair systems. Damaged repair nanites. Damaged chronometer. Forcibly altered T-Cog. The list just kept on growing, and that wasn't even counting his physical alteration. How was this mech even still functioning as well as he was? Over half his systems were damaged in some way.

"Keep going." He said firmly. But he couldn't suppress the quaver in his voice. He knew that the information could only get darker from here on out.

He waited in anxious silence as Jarvis hesitantly brought his search to the final and main focus of attention, the thing he had been asked to scan in the first place – Galvatron's spark. Tony dreaded what Jarvis might find. Steve's whispered words hinted at something horrible.

"Sir…." Jarvis started to speak but trailed off. Tony soon enough found out why, and his rage nearly hit critical mass in consequence. He could feel his blood boiling.

Tony knew how spark signals were supposed to look and behave. Each one was unique, but they had certain, pre-defined energy parameters that hinted at them being connected to a larger source – the Allspark – kind of like a strange energy hive mind. Ratchet had said that was where the philosophical phrase "All Are One" had stemmed from in the first place.

Galvatron's? It was all kinds of wrong. Its frequency was off by a landslide. Its wavelength was all wonky. Its signal was weaker than it should've been. Even its pre-defined energy parameters were different than that of a normal mech's.

"_No_….No, no, no, _no_…" Tony breathed in abject horror, eyes going wide behind his helmet. He was seeing the data but he couldn't believe it – he didn't _want_ to believe it. It was no wonder Galvatron had tried to keep this a secret from anyone bar the healers.

His voice cracked as he said: "Jarvis, _please_ tell me Unicron _didn't_ do what I think he did."

"Unfortunately he did, sir. Gathered data implies he has been cut off from the Allspark."

On the other end of the open communication line could be heard a startled, horrified gasp.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the little hiatus from this! Had some life stuffs going on. I will warn everyone ahead of time that updates won't be as frequent when I get into college due to the workload keeping me busy :( Sad days. But yeah, just a heads up because I won't be in college till, like, August, so yay! :D**


	18. Chapter 18: Secrets

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 18**

Tony stared in shock at the slumbering vehicle. His heart threatened to break into two halves – one of barely contained murderous rage, the other of all-encompassing pity and compassion. He could only imagine how Galvatron must feel to be cut off like that – the poor guy deserved better. That was a bad hand if there ever was one.

"Sir?" Jarvis pressed gently. "Who precisely should be privy to this information? You said these scan results were on a need-to-know basis, between you and Captain Rogers only, but I suspect your opinion has changed somewhat."

[Tony, we _need_ to tell Optimus about this. Knockout as well, if he doesn't already know.] Cap said.

"Agreed. Meet me down in the Assembly Hall as soon as you can, and bring Jane with you. Don't let anyone follow you. We'll tell them all at a later date. For now we'll keep this between people who it directly concerns."

[Tony, he's part of the team. He's one of us. Why shouldn't the other Avengers know about this? It _does_ concern them all. It's like keeping an injury hidden from a trained physician – it's not the right thing to do. That is a very short-sighted decision that could have major repercussions.]

"I hate it when you're right. But let's tell the major people _first_ and _then_ work our way down the ladder, okay? They worry about him enough as it is, Steve. You know that. You know just how anxious Wasp can get about him. If he's gone for too long or gets hurt she descends into panic-freak-out mode."

[Well, I suppose that's a fair enough compromise.] Cap conceded slowly. [Alright. I'll go find Jane and meet you in the Assembly Hall. Stay there with him until then, would you? I think he feels safer if he can sense someone nearby.]

"Deal. See you in a bit."

Tony cut the communication line and began to wait, standing vigil next to his slumbering friend and wishing there was something he could do for him to make the pain of isolation go away, but knowing full well he couldn't do a thing.

* * *

It didn't take Captain Rogers very long to find the Avengers resident paramedic.

She was deep in conversation with Thor in the lounge and thumbing through a holographic display emitted by her ID card. From the images and words on the display it appeared she was talking about magic, and whether or not Earth magic was similar to Asgardian magic. Thor was wondering why Galvatron didn't have any built-in or learned mystic defenses. He could use it, but not defend against it? That was a design flaw to him.

"Ms. Foster?" He interrupted as politely as he could.

Jane stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at him. She didn't even need to ask why he was there. That look in his blue eyes told her that he knew about the condition of Galvatron's spark.

She made the display vanish and pocketed the card. "Excuse me, Thor. I'll be right back."

Thor looked confused but graciously nodded and let her pass. Jane was only ever called away like this if a team member was suffering from an injury or an ailment. However, that look in her eyes foretold of something rather grim that instantly put him on guard. He was half-tempted to follow after her to find out what the problem was, but he was a gentleman at heart.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the Asgardian, Jane whispered:

"Tony found out, didn't he? He ran a full diagnostic scan on him and found it."

Cap nodded mutely before replying: "Frankly, I'm the one who greenlighted the diagnostic scan. Let's just say I had a conversation with a certain somebody who warned me of something being wrong with Galvatron's spark. I didn't want to seem nosey by asking and making him uncomfortable."

Jane frowned grimly, calling the elevator that to the sublevels. While they waited, she explained:

"Ratchet knew about it after his stunt at Ryker's, but June and I only found out about his condition more recently. He told us in confidence as a precaution. I've been trying to find the time to tell you guys about it, but I've never had the right opportunity."

"I'm honestly surprised you didn't ask why Ratchet was so upset after he was called in to assist with the whole MECH abduction incident. That was why he was so infuriated. Messing with a severed spark is incredibly dangerous. I guess you guys just didn't understand what the words meant in context."

"I suppose you're going to tell Optimus – about his being severed? That's what I'm here for during this meeting, aren't I – to speak on the patient's behalf and provide medical testimony?" She guessed smartly after a moment of silence.

Cap answered shortly, though not unkindly: "Yes."

Both were silent during the short lift ride to the sublevels, lost in their own ruminations about their friend and his pitiable condition. They arrived to see Tony patiently waiting for them beside the great dark form of Galvatron's vehicle mode, and from the sound of the cooling fans he was still out cold.

"Soundwave's already patching the call through. Come on." Tony whispered.

He quietly led them towards and into the Assembly Hall, shutting the doors behind them to ensure no accidental noises woke their friend up. On the holographic screen above the table was a set of cyberglyphs that, if anyone had to guess, translated to "Please Wait".

Soundwave obviously had a bit of a sense of humor that he hadn't had the chance to show during his time among the Decepticon forces. Despite the gravity surrounding the reason for the call, Soundwave was subtly trying to lighten the mood with his special brand of humor.

After a few moments the blank screen and cyberglyphs flickered out of existence to be replaced by live video feed of both Optimus Prime and Knockout staring back at them from within the medical lab of the Nemesis.

"What's up guys?" Knockout wondered curiously, head tilted slightly to one side, his tone light and cheerfully inquisitive. "Got more news you want to share with us? Or is this just a random social call?"

"First one. And it's not good news, Knockout." Cap told him grimly, frowning.

Knockout's light air evaporated in an instant. The soldier's tone and body language said something was seriously wrong and now was not the time for light-sparked jabs and jokes. His words accentuated that something was indeed wrong.

"Has something happened?" Optimus inquired, blue optics narrowed in suspicion. Captain Rogers's dark demeanor and foreboding words were highly disconcerting to the Prime, and Jane's presence spoke of something being wrong medically.

Tony silently uploaded the data Jarvis had gathered from the diagnostic scan before saying these self-same readings were from Galvatron – specifically his spark.

"Optimus…..I've known about this for a while, and so have Ratchet and June. We've kept it quiet mainly for Galv's sake. Tony only recently discovered it and as such Steve knows now too. Galv's spark was severed." Jane clarified, mute rage in her eyes.

Knockout's expression and body language underwent a fantastic range of emotions in a few short seconds. First and foremost was abject shock and horror. Pity followed this. Then the red mech positively bristled as the information was finally processed fully. His hands clenched into fists. He snarled something unintelligible in German.

Optimus on the other hand gave a heavy, world-weary sigh and shook his head sadly, his blue optics flooded with both pain and pity.

"I thought as much." The Prime murmured gently, shaking his head.

Knockout jolted and stared at him, snapping at him angrily:

"You knew about this? All this time you knew about this and you never _once_ thought to mention it to me? What was going through that processor of yours to make you think that was a sensible choice?!"

The red medic glared at him, indignant fire burning in his ruby optics. He flared his field and armor plating aggressively in an effort to truly get the message across that he was not okay with being kept in the dark. It was never the right thing to do – keeping a medic out of the loop about one of his patients, especially about a condition such as this.

All the while the Prime stared back at him evenly with pity shining in his blue optics, his own field gently reaching out to soothe Knockout's agitated one. He reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder armor.

"Because frankly, Knockout, there was nothing you could have done for him, then or now. Such a condition is beyond your scope and training as a medic to correct."

"I don't give a flying frag about whether or not I could've done anything to help! You still should've told me about this!" Knockout screeched, shoving the hand away.

And with that the infuriated red medic stormed out of the room, the doors slamming shut with finality behind him. None of those present had ever seen Knockout this enraged before. It was rare for anyone to be mad enough to snap at the Prime or shove him away like that.

Optimus stared at the sealed door with muted pain and sympathy before turning his attention back to the humans. He sighed softly, head hanging in guilt as he listened to the red medic's receding pedefalls until they faded away into obscurity.

He had had no desire to lie to the medic about Galvatron's severing, but he hadn't wanted to burden him with this sad information and have him worry over it needlessly. As he had said, there was nothing Knockout could have done for Galvatron. This condition was beyond even the Prime's ability to heal.

"If Knockout had restrained himself and stayed here for a moment longer, I would have told him that the issue is being corrected with surprising alacrity." He said at last. "See here."

He magnified the scans on the screen, highlighting certain sections to focus attention on them while manually pointing out other sections of interest. One highlighted wavelength appeared to be superimposed above all of the others, the energy output was strong and the signature undeniable.

"You sneaky little devil…." Tony grinned, pointing at the energy signature. When Cap looked at him funny he elaborated quickly:

"I thought that was just his way of communicating on a personal level with him, because I picked up that signal when I scanned him earlier, but the glow stick's actually reversing the damage by partial habitation. In layman's terms that means a teensy little portion of him is literally _living_ inside Galv's spark right now."

"I don't know whether to call that freaky or downright awesome, so I'm gonna go with both." He concluded, still grinning ear to ear.

"It's small enough to go almost unnoticed by broad wavelength scans, but strong enough to correct the condition at a slow, steady pace via short waveform bursts. Huh. Clever, very clever." Jane agreed, smiling.

This information coincided with that supplied recently by June. Before the city had fallen under she had contacted her to relay the good news that Ratchet had detected the signs of a waveform burst, though he didn't know when exactly it had occurred. Slowly but steadily the mech's severing curse was being reversed.

Now there was a second burst, and this one seemed to be of even greater magnitude. It was very promising. He might have this situation fixed up in a matter of months, maybe even weeks – though perhaps the latter was being a little overly optimistic.

"I'm just curious as to why these bursts look like they're timed to coincide with something." Cap admitted slowly. "Granted, there're only two so far, so that's not a whole lot to speculate off, but it still looks an awful lot like he's timing them. What exactly is he timing them to, then?"

Tony and Jane started slightly on realizing the soldier's suspicion was founded. Those bursts _did_ appear to be timed to fit to something. What that something was remained to be discovered, because it could literally be anything.

"They may be timed to coincide with something, but I have reason to believe they are not timed to something that can be scheduled or anticipated. There _is_ a timescale, yes, but not a timescale under the standard sense of the term. They simply happen when they happen." Optimus said cryptically.

* * *

"Is this going to happen _every time_ I go into power down?"

Galvatron was currently staring at the resplendent white and gold form of his all-powerful advisor, arms crossed over his chest and looking rather peeved. There was no city this time around, only endless miles of darkness accentuated by star-studded fog. Unlike Nightmare's terror-infused darkness, this felt far less scary and dangerous and more…peaceful, and the glittery mist exuded an air of mysterious serenity.

Said advisor had his helm innocently tilted to one side, gold optics twinkling playfully, smiling lightly at the darker colored mech. His posture was casual and relaxed, leaning a little to one side in the manner of many Earth teens. Again his casual behavior struck him.

"Only if you so desire." said Primus.

Galvatron frowned moodily: "Well, I don't desire it right now, so get. I'd like to get some decent recharge without you barging in here unannounced. You don't need to keep an optic on me all the time. So shoo. I'm not in the mood for conversation."

"As you wish."

And with those three words the deity turned on his heels and walked off into the shimmering mists, soon fading away into the darkness. But despite his absent physical presence Galvatron could still feel his gentle aura flowing through the mists, lapping at his heel struts like water on the banks of a stream.

He hadn't told him to leave out of anger or anything like that. He had simply wanted some mental solitude for a while, though he regretted in hindsight that he had sounded so rude in saying so. He hadn't intended to sound so mean or curt.

Thankfully it took a lot to actually upset the friendly being. His patience threshold was immense, far greater than Optimus's, and he'd probably expected to be dismissed in such an abrupt manner. Being inside his mind as such meant he knew what he was thinking.

On an instinct he knelt down and ran his hands through the mist. In response the little stars within its fold shone brighter, and he could hear faint whispers previously unheard. It was eerie, but the whispers didn't sound threatening in any way. In fact, it sounded soothing – reassuring.

He watched as the mist twirled around and between his digits like some spectral serpent, then spiral up and around his arm. It was cool to the touch like mist should be, but there was also a hint of warmth in it.

'_You do not need to apologize, Galvatron. I understand._'

Galvatron smiled thinly as realization hit him:

"I'm not sure this counts as 'leaving me alone', but I suppose I'll let it go just this once. I'm not about to argue with your protective urges. And I'll apologize anyway so I stop feeling bad out it. I didn't mean to sound so snappy just now. Sorry."

There was a low, rumbling chuckle from all around.

'_I think anyone would be a bit short of temper after going through the strenuous day you did. Do not treat me as though I am your superior, Galvatron. I implore you, look upon me as a friend. Never will I treat you as anything other than an equal._'

* * *

After concluding their thoughts on the subject, the three humans ended their consultative call with the Prime. He had promised to tell each member of Team Prime about the severing in turn, and told them that they should do the same. He had said rather cryptically that some secrets were beneficial to keep while others were not. Then the screen had blacked out.

They made their way out of the Assembly Hall in silence. Surprisingly, Galvatron still appeared to be out like a light. That poor mech must have really had a rough day if he was still soundly in power down, but then again it probably wasn't his doing – he _had_ made a deal after all, and Primus seemed intent on sticking to it down to the letter.

Jane and Cap made their way back to the lift, but Tony decided to stick with the slumbering mech. He remembered what Steve had said earlier, about him feeling more secure if someone were there with him. Galvatron may act like he didn't enjoy someone's presence at times, but deep down he craved it. It probably had something to do with his condition – being cut off from the Allspark, he needed to feel that others were near at hand or else he didn't feel complete.

Tony laid a gauntleted hand against the warm metal, feeling the faint thrumming pulses of his spark through the sensitive sensor array implanted inside the gauntlet's fingers. It sure sounded and felt like nothing was wrong with it, but now he knew that wasn't the case.

"You're not alone, pal. We're all here for you." He muttered. "Doesn't even matter what team you're on – Avengers, New Avengers, X-Men, Fantastic Four – no one is ever gonna leave you behind, because you're one of us now. You helped save an _entire city_, buddy, maybe even the whole world."

"You're a hero."

No response from the unconscious vehicle other than the sound of cooling fans, but he had the feeling he had in fact been heard, maybe not specifically by Galvatron, but by the other presence embedded deep within that was keeping a watchful eye on him while he regained his strength.

"Tell him that, would you?"

His armor HUD blinked as a foreign intelligence attempted to hack into the armor. Jarvis reacted, aiming to lock the unknown user out of the system in retaliation, but Tony told him not to. From the looks of thing the hacker wasn't trying to override his armor systems, but simply send a transmission over a rather bizarre variable frequency wavelength.

When the message came through, it simply read:

_He knows._

Behind his armor's faceplate, Tony smiled broadly: "You so _need_ to teach me how to hack like that. That's pretty darn impressive. Oh, and the next time you do that, give us a little warning would you? Jarvis doesn't like mysterious hackers who try and breach my armor's cyber defenses. It ticks him off."

Another message popped up on the display:

_Duly noted. ;)_

Jarvis reacted rather childishly to this: _I do __**not**__ appreciate hackers, even if they are friendly and relatively harmless! This is still a breach of security! D: _

_Jarvis, honestly. Stop taking everything so seriously. You sound like Red Alert. Lighten up a little! It won't hurt you. ;D_

Then the friendly hacker's programming subsided from the armor's communication systems like a specter. Jarvis attempted out of curiosity to backtrack the source of the variable wavelength signal only to come up with nothing to show for his efforts. He had to hand it to the mechanical deity – he was very talented.

"Oooh, he got you good Jarvis." Tony cackled quietly.

In an instant almost all of his armor's systems went offline as the AI transferred itself out. All that was left functioning were the motor control relays, air circulation systems, and the visual display.

"…Jarvis? Jarvis? Hello? Jarvis, you there? Hello?"

Nothing.

"Great. Just friggin' peachy. I managed to tick off my own AI butler that I just so happen to need in order to run my armor. Now I gotta go find him. Wonderful…"

**Author's Note: Dunno why, but I just feel like ending this chapter right here. It's a short chapter, but it worked. Also, my more eagle-eyed readers, did you catch my hint? It's another plot point. Key word "Secret". **


	19. Chapter 19: Disclosed Darkness

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 19**

Galvatron awoke a few hours later. He didn't feel the same degree of refreshed as he had the first time he had been forced into power down, but he did feel much more alert. Almost all of his systems appeared to have recovered from the ordeal.

His processor still ached dully from all of the strain he had put on it during his fight with Nightmare. No doubt it would take a while for that ache to go away completely, and hopefully he would develop a little more mental strength over time – perhaps some skilled telepaths could help with building such resilience? Psychic combat came naturally to them.

After all, the Avengers _were_ on fairly good terms with the mutant X-Men from all he had gathered from their communications with each other. Maybe he could contact one of the team's resident telepaths at some point in the near future to see if they would be willing to assist with such a long-term goal. It would also give him time to get to know the mutant team.

He slowly became aware of a presence near his sides. It was a presence he knew very well and one he had come to cherish – Wasp. She was at her normal size, and a brief scan showed very plainly that she had been crying. Her eyes were red and dried tears glistened on her cheeks. And it didn't take a genius to figure out why she was so upset. Janet Van Dyne was a very easy person to read.

"You know, don't you? About my curse." He murmured softly.

She stared slightly at her his voice – she hadn't expected it to sound so gentle. It sounded like he had expected her and perhaps the Avengers as a whole to find out about the pitiable condition Unicron had left him in eventually, and he didn't sound upset about their now knowing of it. He sounded more aggrieved, even ashamed.

"Yes." Wasp admitted quietly, laying a hand on his plating. "Tony told me pretty soon after he ran a full system scan of you while you were in power down and found out about your condition. He knows I worry about you. I can't help it. It's maternal instincts."

That about confirmed his suspicions. If Iron Man and Wasp both knew then without a shadow of a doubt the remaining members of the team knew about his curse as well. It looked like his dark little secret was no longer a secret anymore. Now the entire squadron knew of his severing.

"Then you must also know what it means." Galvatron guessed.

Wasp nodded mutely, biting her lip to hold back another flood of tears. Yes, she knew what this condition amounted to and it tore her in half on the inside. She could only imagine just how lonely and isolated he must feel, being cut off like that. It was cruel and unusual punishment for a Cybertronian.

No one deserved to be so entirely alone, especially not Galvatron. He deserved better.

"Galv….Why did you hide this from us?" She asked softly.

"I….I didn't want to be an emotional burden on any of you. You have better things to worry about than the condemnation of an already broken mech. You have the safety of an entire planet to oversee. I didn't want any of you distracted or needlessly worrying about me, especially when….when there's no cure for this."

"That's a lie if I ever heard one."

Both of them started in surprise, focusing their attention to where the voice had come from. Leaning against the wall nearby was Hawkeye. Exactly how long he had been there was unknown, but he had evidently been there long enough to overhear the tail end of Galvatron's remark. There was a knowing smirk on his lips that caught the mech's attention.

"What do you mean a lie? Unicron told me –" Galvatron began, but Clint cut him off abruptly before he could even finish the sentence.

"Don't take that freak's word for anything. I thought you were smarter than that. What's that saying again? '_The truth hurts for a little while but a lie hurts forever?_' This is just his way of hurting you even more – that is, if you're dumb enough to believe it."

Galvatron frankly couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was Hawkeye suggesting that there was a cure for his condition? But none of the old stories that described severing had ever mentioned a cure!

'_You honestly did not think that after countless eons of battling my brother that I would have no means of counteracting his little curses did you? You really do not have much faith in my abilities, do you?_'

"_You_?! You're curing it?" He gasped. "But how?"

Just then he felt the warmth in his spark increase. Rather than fade away it simply kept heating up until it felt like his spark was literally on fire, but no pain accompanied the sensation. It was like sunlight had permeated through his armor and was gathering inside him. For a very brief fraction of a second he could have sworn he heard voices, too – voices filled with happiness and care-free laughter.

Then the sensation cut off, and the dreadfully cold emptiness returned. But the cold emptiness wasn't as bad as he had recalled. It had been far worse just after Unicron's removal. Now – now there was a very noticeable warmth that _wasn't_ coming from Primus. It was just a hint so far, but this he knew – this warmth was normal for a non-severed spark.

He had never realized until now that a spark was naturally warm due to its connection with the Allspark. He had simply taken it for granted all those centuries to the point where he had never noticed.

Galvatron remained utterly silent as he connected the dots. It was just so much to take in all at once. He had firmly believed he was condemned to isolation after death, but now he knew that such a belief was wrong. His curse was being corrected.

After a few minutes of silence his engine began to purr like the world's biggest kitten, and that sound soon evolved into ringing, joyous laughter. Wasp and Hawkeye both grinned broadly before joining him. It was rare to hear the mech outright laugh just for no other reason than because he was happy, so this was indeed something to savor.

Hawkeye winked. "See? Don't take someone's word at face value for something that seems too good – or in your case, too bad – to be true, especially from it comes from someone you know doesn't make a habit of being strictly honest."

Before Clint could even register what had happened he felt a large something latch onto him tightly. It took his brain almost a full minute to compute what he was seeing. It was Galvatron's holo-form and it was currently busy crushing him in a friendly, grateful hug. Rather awkwardly the archer stood there, blinking once or twice in surprise.

"Thank you. I needed to hear that."

Clint's expression went humorously flat: "…Alright, could you let go now? Seriously. Come on, dude. Let go. You're embarrassing me here. Don't give her blackmail ammo, please."

Galvatron's holo-form released the archer before shimmering out of existence, his huge grin lighting up his face. This was honestly the happiest either Avenger had ever seen him before.

He then eyed him more severely, pointing at the vehicle nearby: "Don't give up so easily. That's what he wants. You resign yourself to this and you are _giving Unicron what he wants on a silver freaking platter_, Galv. _Don't_ give him what he wants."

'_Barton speaks truly. By remaining downcast and negative you are only feeding Unicron's strength, and it is also in point of fact making my task of healing you much more difficult. Your negative moodiness keeps me locked out. Only when you remain positive do I have the strength and opportunity to heal you. The best method of keeping my brother weak, and aiding me in the process, is to maintain a more positive attitude and outlook._'

"But I thought you destroyed him."

'_Defeated, not destroyed. His essence was locked inside you. What I did was simply remove it from you and banish it back to his physical body. However, while his essence was badly damaged I did not – and frankly could not – destroy it. That is an impossibility, Galvatron. It cannot be done. After all, can one truly remove fear or hatred from existence? And on the opposite end of the spectrum, can one truly kill hope and love?_'

"Oh." Was all Galvatron could say. Well, hearing that Unicron still functioned wasn't exactly the best news ever. But at the least his rival was online again and capable of defending his creations and Earth's population of innocent civilians from him. If Unicron tried anything, Primus would beat him back into submission.

'_Indeed. I will not allow him to hurt you or any of my creations, nor will I allow him to harm your allies. This I promise._' There was an increase in warmth as he spoke – the closest thing the entity could give to an embrace.

Wasp and Hawkeye both smiled when Galvatron's engine started faintly purring again. It really was good to see him so happy. And dang it all if that purring thing he was doing wasn't adorable as all get out. He honestly did sound like the world's biggest kitten.

With an impish smirk the archer whipped out his ID behind his back and secretly recorded the noise. Smokescreen and Knockout would crack up when they heard the sound of the most physically intimidating fighter in all of Cybertronian history purring like a giant housecat.

He also had a bet going with Tony over whether or not Cybertronians actually purred, and if they did what it sounded like, though it was more of a harmless research question with prize money involved than a true bet. That man would do anything to further his knowledge of their alien allies, even if it meant stooping to Clint's level to get the required information.

Looks like Tony now owed him a hundred bucks in reward money.

* * *

A few hours passed by rather uneventfully. Galvatron, despite the desire to remain in the launch bay, had switched on his holo-form and joined the other Avengers in the lounge. On a gentle reminder from his advisor, Galvatron had voiced his theory about the identity of the Ryker's Island mystery hacker, saying he had a suspicion that the hacker might have been some form of rogue AI and backing up his claim with observable evidence.

Stark and T'Challa had both seemed thunderstruck at the suggestion, along with immensely worried. Ant-Man in turn looked even more deeply troubled.

"I seem to recall one of your most dangerous opponents was a rogue Artificial Intelligence, but according to Soundwave this Intelligence – Ultron, yes? – was eventually destroyed with Vision's assistance. Here's my question: Could Ultron have somehow survived?"

Ant-Man put a hand to his chin in thought. "I mean, it's _possible_. You can't technically 'kill' an Artificial Intelligence because they aren't 'alive' to begin with – not like Cybertronians. An AI is just a mass of highly advanced programming and software. I suppose in theory he _could_ have uploaded himself into a piece of unprotected technology just before his central processing unit was melted by the fire…."

"But even _if_ he survived, why the heck would he go after Ryker's Island? That makes no sense. Ultron never worked with supervillains before. His only goal was eradicating all life forms on Earth, and working with baddies isn't in line with that goal." Iron Man argued.

"Perhaps, but there are some supervillains who might be willing to make certain compromises with him if it means eliminating the world's superhuman defenders." Blank Panther pointed out grimly. "However I suspect once his opposition was removed he would willingly kill his criminal allies."

Tony nodded: "Alright, I'll give you that. _That_ sounds more like Ultron."

This was unsettling to Galvatron. Soundwave had gathered data on the vengeful AI in the past. His old self had harbored the idea of forming an alliance with it, but now he realized just how foolhardy such a decision would have been. Ultron's AI was horrendously corrupted – it saw everything as an enemy, and its programming parameters wouldn't be satisfied until every single living thing on the face of the Earth was annihilated.

If he hadn't known any better, he would've bet that the AI had been corrupted by Unicron himself rather than Kang's futuristic Damocles vessel. Or, slag; maybe it was a combination of the two. He honestly didn't really know. Soundwave's intelligence on the AI and Kang's vessel had been surprisingly patchy.

'_Galvatron, you know firsthand that even if Unicron's body is dormant, his mind and essence are not. He is more than capable of continuously causing trouble. His mere presence can result in drastic, negative changes. My brother is the physical embodiment of chaos, after all._'

His red eyes widened: "Wait, are you saying Unicron may have actually had a hand in Ultron's data corruption, his present continued survival – which, by the way, we still don't know for certain – _and_ the Ryker's Island incident, albeit indirectly?"

The gathered Avengers' own eyes widened slightly on hearing the holo-form say this. This was definitely a dark twist. They had believed that Unicron would never bother with a lesser mechanical entity such as Ultron, but clearly he wasn't above it if it meant furthering his agenda. Apparently even in stasis, past or present, this being of pure evil and chaos was a huge danger.

"Is there any way to discover for certain whether that thrice-cursed machine still lives?" wondered Thor.

"At the moment, no." Vision stated matter-of-factly. "But I will review the data gathered from Ryker's Island Penitentiary to see if evidence of Ultron can be revealed. A hacker always leaves an electronic fingerprint no matter how expertly they attempt to conceal themselves. Ultron is no exception."

With that the android melted through the floor and down into the sublevel labs to begin his analysis. Tony uttered an excuse and quickly followed him via the lift shaft. He wasn't about to let Vision do this all on his own.

"What do we do while we wait?" Ms. Marvel asked after they were gone.

As in if prophetic response to her question everyone's ID cards suddenly started flashing at once. It was a relayed distress call from a police unit in the Bronx regarding a supervillain made of electricity who was the size of the Hulk. He was draining electricity from the entire borough apparently in an effort to gain power. Three officers had been incinerated by it already.

[Please! If anyone is picking up this message, help us before –]

There was the sound of a surge of electrical energy, a blood-chilling scream, and then the channel devolved into static.

"Zzzax." Hulk growled.

Galvatron eyed him curiously: "Who?"

"A Cube prisoner. It feeds off electromagnetic energy to stay alive, including the electrical charges that constantly fire inside a human brain. Said human victim is instantly vaporized while Zzzax's cumulative brainpower increases. In short – the more people it kills the smarter it becomes." Wonder Man clarified unexpectedly.

When everyone looked at him oddly, he hastened to explain that the Masters had debated getting Zzzax on their side in order to compliment Living Laser and help take down Iron Man for good, though due to its ravenous feeding habits – and his and Laser's energy composition – this idea had never come to fruition.

Hawkeye gestured over at the holo-form, pointing out: "Uh, Cap, if this thing feeds off energy would it _really_ be a smart idea to let Galv come with us on this one? Heh, erm. N-No offense, pal."

"No offense taken, Clint. I see your point."

"I'm just…making sure you don't get killed, Galv. I mean, come on – energy monster, _feeds_ off energy, you _run_ on liquid energy, your _holo-form_ is made of energy. Do the math. I'm sorry pal, but you'd just get in the way. A Cybertronian fighting Zzzax? That would be suicide."

Galvatron smiled faintly at the archer's concern for his welfare. Hawkeye made a valid argument. His presence during this particular battle would only cause problems, not to mention the incredibly high risk of being sucked dry of Energon. He would die of energy starvation if he walked into that battle. It was safer for him to stay behind.

Besides, he could make himself useful elsewhere. With Zzzax wreaking havoc in the Bronx, other criminals might see fit to take advantage of such chaos in order to work unnoticed. If he were lucky he might happen to run across Ghost Recon or one of the numerous solos that inhabited the city. Some of those solos were quite interesting to him – if somewhat terrifying in certain cases.

'_I would not worry about running into Ghost Rider in the field, especially during the day. He mainly operates after dark._ _The same goes for Werewolf by Night and Moon Knight. None of these three solo heroes is dangerous, nor should you actively avoid them as if they were. They simply function better at night._'

Idly he nodded while observing his allies prepare for battle. "Be careful, my friends."

Cap managed a teasing smile at him before he left the room: "We'll be fine. Just try and stay out of trouble while we're gone, alright?"

"Oh _har har_, old man. Thank you _so_ much for the vote of confidence."

Both of them smiled good-naturedly at one another before the soldier finally vanished out of the door. Once he was gone the holo-form flickered out of existence so the mech below could begin his patrols.

* * *

The Bronx borough was effectively already covered by the Avengers, so Galvatron set his patrol a little farther afield – specifically Queens. It was near enough to the Bronx that the mech could keep tabs on the superhuman squadron, but it was far enough away that Zzzax would be unable to detect him. He had to maintain distance or else the energy creature might sense him.

One building complex in the borough caught his attention. It appeared to be a massive university from the look and layout of the grounds. He knew of this institution – Empire State University. It was one of the most prestigious universities in New York, and was well-known for admitting mutants. Some of the professors were even heroes themselves, like Reed Richards – the head of the Fantastic Four.

Out of curiosity he made a few sweeps over the university grounds to see if he recognized anyone below. A few students walking by excitedly pointed up at him while a few others waved, but seeing no one he knew he pulled back and resumed his patrol.

While passing over a side street near one of the piers his scanners detected movement beneath him. Intrigued, he lowered down to see if he could get a visual on the source of the movement. Said source of movement was easy enough for him to find, and it put him on edge in an instant.

It was a young adult male wearing a grey sweatshirt, ripped blue jeans, and a thick, hooded red cloak that looked rather tattered and worn, appearing as though it had been shredded by massive claws. Holstered on his hips were twin pistols that glowed faintly with blood red energy. Hood up, it was impossible to see his face.

Silently he lowered himself onto a nearby rooftop to watch the hooded figure. He seemed to be headed somewhere and was purposefully sticking to alleys and side streets to lessen the risk of being observed. His movements also appeared erratic as though to prevent anyone from tailing him.

Not once did the cloaked figure's head lift to check the rooftops, though Galvatron had the distinct impression that the man's eyes were constantly shifting about in search of unwanted observers.

This sort of furtive behavior did not fit with a hero. No, this was a villain. But which one was it?

'_That is Parker Robbins – The Hood. If you are intent on following him then I implore you to exercise caution. Keep a discreet distance from him. He may not exactly look as menacing or dangerous as other villains, but I assure you that he is. His twin pistols, cloak and boots are all enchanted with dark magic._'

Dark magic, eh? Well, this patrol had suddenly gotten very interesting. And disturbing.

* * *

Galvatron had waited patiently until the Hood was out of audial range and then took to the skies once more. He was now discreetly tailing Robbins' via his scanners, maintaining a significant distance from the criminal to ensure his powerful engine didn't give away his position. He needed to know what the Hood was up to.

He followed Robbins' all the way to the abandoned slums of Chinatown where he vanished into a run down, empty building. Curious, the mech brought up schematics for this section of the city to see if perhaps there was a hidden entrance into either the storm drain tunnels or subway tunnels that crisscrossed beneath the city.

Ah. It seemed that a section of old subway ran under this particular building, this specific section having been blocked off about six months previously. It appeared the Hood was attending a clandestine meeting of some sort, or perhaps an exchange with other crooks. Nothing good could come from such a trade.

He needed to look into this.

Settling himself on a rooftop a few blocks from his target building, Galvatron switched on his holo-form and flew the remainder of the way, circling around the back of the structure and sneaking in through a large crater in the walls. Cobwebs clung in the corners and broken glass littered the ground beneath his feet, crackling under his boots as he walked.

It reminded him all too much of the blown out buildings and homes on Cybertron. His mind threatened to force a grim flashback, but he would not let it do so. He needed to focus. Lives might be at risk if this deal or meeting or whatever it was went through.

He searched around until he found what he was looking for – a seemingly innocent hole in the floor covered with rotting wooden boards. On a hunch he reached down for one of the boards – and found that his hand passed right through it. These boards were simple holograms meant to fool intruders.

The holo-form smirked: "Hm. Clever."

'_Please be careful. I do not know what you will find down there. Something…something does not feel right. I sense a foul darkness below. Tread warily, child. Do not take any unnecessary risks._'

The holo-form nodded once before carefully lowering himself into the hole. He dangled from the edge for a moment and then released his grip on the cement rim, spreading his wings to soften his landing. He hit ground with barely a sound to betray his arrival.

Then he slowly began to stalk deeper into the tunnel's dark depths, treading as quietly as a cat, burning red eyes narrowed, darting around for any signs of movement. He didn't dare bring out his energy blade or shield for fear of giving his position away. He had to stick to the shadows if he hoped to remain undetected.

After a few feet he began to hear hushed voices – five from the sounds of them, three males and two females it seemed. None of them he recognized. They were coming from around a bend in the tunnel where pale and flickering lights illuminated their clandestine meeting. Very cautiously he peered around the corner, keeping in the darkness.

Standing there in a loose gathering was the strangest looking bunch of humans he had ever seen, and considering whom he was allied with and whom he actively fought – that was saying something.

One was a rather slender female wearing an all dark crimson bodysuit with a hooded cowl hiding her face. A long red cloak fluttered behind her. Thought faint at the moment, he was distinctly picking up traces of tachyon energy, betraying her as a tech-based teleporter like Skywarp.

'_Crimson Cowl. She is an enemy of Iron Man._'

The second was a bizarre looking male individual attired in all green body armor. His "helmet" was a burning pumpkin with a sinister expression carved into its front. Hanging from a bandolier slung across his chest were numerous pumpkin styled grenades, and tucked under his right arm was a circular hoverboard.

'_Jack O'Lantern. He is an assassin who works closely with the Maggia. Those grenades are loaded with explosives and hallucinogenic gases._'

Right away he recognized the Hood, with his tattered red cape and glowing red pistols.

The third was a tall man in all white and grey with a white hood draped over his fully masked face. His shoulders and chest were protected by light grey metal plating. Strapped to his back was a machine gun, and holstered on his left hip was an advanced looking combat pistol.

'_Ghost, an assassin for hire. Be highly wary of him. His suit gives him the ability to turn both invisible and intangible. Where he got the technology for it no one knows._'

Lastly was a second woman partly adorned in silver body armor. Beneath this plating was dark violent under armor. Her face was hidden by a strange golden mask that, in the right light, appeared to constantly shift and flux as though made of liquid gold. In one hand she held a large automatic pistol.

'_Madame Masque. She is a known associate of the Maggia. That mask is a highly advanced piece of technology that generates a full body hologram, enabling her to appear as anyone she pleases._'

A non-mutant shifter? Intriguing. Capturing her would be difficult, then.

He continued to discreetly observe the five villains from his hiding place. This didn't seem to be an exchange, but rather a meeting in progress. They appeared to be discussing and arguing over why and how their operations were being shut down – sabotaged. All five of them sounded nervously aggravated about their respective sudden drops in profit and loss of lackeys.

It came as a bit of surprise to him when the culprits were at last named: Ghost Recon. It seemed the spectral team had been quite busy lately, targeting and disrupting their myriad illegal operations, in certain cases even shutting them down entirely.

He smirked silently. Heh. Good on them. Leave it to Winter Soldier to keep those four restless sparks busy in the most productive way imaginable. Skywarp was no doubt enjoying himself immensely being the mischievous little Pit spawn that he really was.

Their voices suddenly decreased in volume and the subject of conversation underwent a drastic shift. No longer were they griping about their collective misfortunes. Now they were scheming active revenge. Madame Masque was debating marshalling the entire Maggia against their attackers. Cowl was offering to supply weapons filched from Hammer Industries. He needed to warn Ghost Recon of this.

As he turned to leave with this information, his boot inadvertently kicked a broken bottle at his heels out into the tunnel. His whole body tensed while his wings tucked tightly against his back as he tried to duck farther into the shadows.

But he wasn't fast enough. Five pairs of eyes locked onto his dark form before it could fully melt into the darkness. In turn, each villain brought out their respective weapons and aimed them right at him.

"Scrap."


	20. Chapter 20: Winter's Spirits

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 20**

All five villains kept their weapons trained on the holo-form suspiciously, seemingly uncertain of whether or not to attack him outright quite yet. It was like they were consciously debating who he might be or whether or not he was a fellow villain who had simply stumbled across their meeting by sheer accident and had elected to eavesdrop on them.

Why were they debating his identity though? He was an Avenger. Well, maybe not the most well-known member on the roster since he was still so new to the team, but an Avenger regardless. So what in the Allspark was making them so openly hesitate to attack him?

That's when realization hit him. It was his _appearance _– his pitch black Kevlar body armor, his burning red eyes, and his large black feathered wings with the black and silver armor – even the scar on his face. There was no Avengers crest visible anywhere on his body. Not one portion of his appearance told that he was on the side of the heroes.

They literally hadn't the remotest idea who he was. For all they knew he might be a possible ally or even just a random mutant looking for shelter from the MRD. And that meant he technically had the element of surprise on them.

'_No, do not act rashly. You are outnumbered and outgunned. This is not a battle you can win entirely on your own. You may have the element of surprise, but that will only last for a precious few moments. That is not enough time to defeat all five targets._'

Mentally the holo-form growled in annoyance. He knew the deity had a point, but that didn't mean he had to like said point. He had dealt with far worse combatants in the gladiatorial pits of Kaon than five armed super thugs who frankly didn't seem to know whether to shoot him on the spot at this very moment or continue to just observe him.

But what was he to do if he couldn't attack? He couldn't just stand here indefinitely, frozen in the flickering, faintly illuminated shadows, waiting for the five villains to either become bored or trigger happy. Neither of those two outcomes was in his best interests.

He was beginning to rapidly formulate possible battle tactics when he had the very distinct impression of there being someone else in the tunnel with him, cutting his strategizing short. But the funny thing was that his sensors weren't picking up a sixth target anywhere. His instincts never lied. So where the slag was…?

"Think fast!"

There was a flash of violet light in the darkness followed by a yelp of surprise from one of the villains that was distinctly male in pitch, followed rapidly be a second violet flash. From the sounds of things – and the sudden drop in lighting – the source of the violet light burst had grabbed Jack O'Lantern, and now both he and the newcomer were gone. There was no trace of either of them.

However, Galvatron curiously noted a spike in tachyon energy that had coincided with the violet light burst. In the pitch blackness, none of the four remaining villains saw a smirk begin to form on his lips. He knew what was going on here now.

It was an ambush.

Then, as the holo-form observed from the shadows, every single one of the pale and flickering makeshift lights overhead sputtered and went out completely. Inky blackness washed over the tunnel's length. Galvatron plainly heard both Crimson Cowl and Ghost swear creatively, their startled voices echoing down the tunnel.

"What the hell? What's goin' on here?!" Hood demanded, aiming both pistols wildly around in the darkness in the vain hopes of catching any movement. Unfortunately, it was just too dark for him to see despite the very faint red glow of his twin guns. Even with them he could barely see five feet in front of his face.

He heard a soft sound, almost like a sigh, and began indiscriminately firing into the darkness. Not once did he hear a single bullet strike a target. The Hood shivered violently when he felt someone clap their hands around his mouth from behind – hands, cold hands like those of a conjured spirit. And then everything went black.

Crimson Cowl, Ghost, and Madame Masque's panic only continued to rise as the moments ticked by in utter silence. Never before had they dealt with an ambush this ludicrously effective. Whoever was giving the orders was a skilled strategist. But how had these ambushers known their location?

"You're with them! You brought them here!" Ghost snarled, his comment directed at the shadowy winged figure that had been standing at the tunnel's corner just before the blackout had occurred. It was the only logical assumption for him to make at the moment.

Galvatron retorted calmly "Brought who here?" while moving to the side a few paces to prevent the villains from tracking him. It was a good thing he had, too – a shot rang out from Madame Masque's gun not a second after the words had come out, and the bitter, acrid smell of gunpowder soon wafted into the holo-form's nostrils.

"That crazy stealth team who's been screwing us all over!" Ghost screamed, infuriated.

There was a heavy thudding sound, faintly metallic, followed by the sound of another villain slumping senseless to the floor. From the very faint grunt of pain heard, plainly feminine in pitch, Galvatron determined that Crimson Cowl had been the one struck out of the group, leaving Madame Masque and Ghost the only ones left.

"Geez. No respect." A new voice grumbled.

Another voice chuckled: "Aw c'mon now, Ghostie. 'Screwing Over' is _such_ a harsh phrase ta use. We're jus' lightenin' your workload, givin' your workers some time off. Think of it as an early retirement!"

Ghost snarled viscously, hefting and firing his assault rifle into the inky blackness whilst spewing out numerous colorful profanities. Just as he was about to spit out another curse, he felt cold hands clap over his mouth. He shuddered, and then the world was plunged into darkness.

Madame Masque swore hoarsely when she heard the assassin slump to the floor. "Damn it!"

She was surrounded by the selfsame team she and her allies had been swearing vengeance against, alone in the dark and at their mercy. Her chances of escape were incredibly slim, but she had one last means of getting away from them – her mask. Perhaps she could impersonate that winged newcomer, confuse them just long enough for her to make a getaway.

Unfortunately, she never got the opportunity to use it.

She heard a very faint rustling noise, coupled with fast-paced, booted footfalls, and then something solid and metallic slammed into the back of her head with a loud _WHH-CHANG!_ that reverberated down the tunnel like a gunshot.

With a small noise of pain she fell senseless to the floor, her gun sliding out of her limp hand.

"Oh _wow._ _That_ had to have hurt." Another voice noted, an ever so faint Italian accent detectable.

Someone ordered "Lights!" and then the previously darkened lights above flashed back to life, casting a harsh, pale glow down the tunnel and illuminating the four unconscious villains – and those who had taken them out. All four were men, and all four were spectral in nature.

In front of the four semi-transparent men stood a familiar young man wearing dark grey and black combat fatigues, his brown hair hanging loose and unkempt. One arm was made of silvery metal, and a small black mask accentuated his icy blue eyes. A rocket launcher was slung around his back with the aid of a black leather sash on which a red star had been painted.

"Winter Soldier. Your timing is impeccable." Galvatron grinned.

Barnes offered a returning grin, jerking a thumb over at the disguised Cliffjumper. "Thank Cliff. He saw you sneaking through Queens; found out you were tailing the Hood. Seeing as he works pretty much hand-in-glove with the Maggia, and they have a helluva lot of manpower at their disposal, he figured you might need an assist. He reported in to me and – well, you know the rest."

Galvatron cocked an amusedly insulted eyebrow. "Some faith you have in my abilities, Cliffjumper."

Cliffjumper smiled, giving a short bark of laughter that sounded just a smidge embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, almost guiltily. He hadn't meant to imply that Galvatron couldn't handle himself in a fight, but the mech had yet to really deal with the Maggia's supergoons. He didn't have the same amount of field experience as they did.

Ghost Recon dealt with the Maggia almost daily. While the larger teams like the Avengers, X-Men, and Fantastic Four dealt with escaped supervillains from the various, now defunct maximum security prisons, Barnes's team of sneaky specters took care of the villains who were a bit lower on the food chain.

Their task, in all honesty, was actually harder since it was on a much larger scale. They were attempting to shut down an _entire criminal empire_ with _global_ ramifications. That was like trying to shut down _Hydra_. Winter Soldier knew first hand just how difficult such a task was. It was just as hard as it sounded.

"Aw, he's just lookin' out for ya, Galv." Jazz winked, smiling. "Nice hit on MM, by th' way. First time I've gotten ta see that energy shield o' yours in action. Got one helluvan arm on ya, don'tcha?"

Galvatron managed another grin, though this one seemed ever so slightly forced. He hadn't thought he'd struck the woman all that hard, but he had wanted to ensure that she was rendered unconscious. Disguise it as he might, he also held a sense of courtesy to the opposite gender – even if said member of the opposite gender happened to be a criminal.

It was something he had picked up in the past from Orion, and something he had re-learned more recently from Thor.

"Where'd Skywarp disappear to with Jack O'Lantern?" He asked after a brief pause.

As if in answer to his question there was a brilliant violet flash in the tunnel that momentarily blinded everyone present. When their respective sets of eyes recovered, a lanky, impish looking teen covered in a dark purple hoodie stood beaming at the gathered assemblage.

"Mr. Pumpkin Head safely delivered to the Raft, Commander Barnes, sir!" Skywarp reported laughingly.

Winter Soldier permitted himself a faint, approving smile. "Nice work, 'Warp. Take Ghost next. We'll help transport the others. With these guys locked up, the Maggia's lost some of its most dangerous lackeys and one of their lieutenants as well. That's _bound_ to send some shockwaves through their ranks."

"Oooh! Right! You betcha!"

With that the hooded teen whisked over to the prone form of Ghost, slung him over his shoulder, and in a second bright flash of violet light he and his unconscious target vanished, leaving the tunnel devoid of his playful banter and speech once more.

As soon as the teleporter was gone, Jazz went over to Crimson Cowl and plucked her off the ground in a surprisingly gentlemanly manner. Mirage did the same for Madame Masque, and lastly Cliffjumper lugged Hood up over his shoulders.

Winter Soldier waved his team mates to follow before starting off in a brisk walk towards the disguised entrance they come in from. "Alright, then Come on, specters. We're done here. Let's get these guys into custody. Meet us outside, Galv. You can tag along as air support if you want to."

Galvatron's holo-form nodded sharply before shimmering out of existence. That sounded agreeable to him. It would give him something to do, and it would provide a means of paying the former Hydra assassin back for the uncannily well-timed save.

The mech felt he also owed the man a few favors in light of his previously rendered aid on Cybertron. That debt he felt he owed the man was immense, and he would probably never come anywhere near to fulfilling it, but at the least he could start paying back some of what he felt he owed now.

In moments the tunnel was left utterly devoid of life, sound, and movement. It now appeared as if no one had ever stepped foot within its confines. Above, the makeshift lights flickered away silently. A rat squeaked loudly, scurrying off into the shadows.

Only the faint scuff marks in the gathered, ground-down, dusty debris and the lingering smell of gun smoke foretold that someone had in fact been there – the only signs that a scuffle had taken place.

Galvatron patiently waited for the spectral team to emerge from the dilapidated building in the distance while keeping up bantering, playful conversation with the notoriously chatty Jazz and Cliffjumper.

Having dropped his vehicular disguise a moment previously, he was currently enjoying the rush of the wind over his plating and feeling appreciative of being out in the open air again. Sunlight streamed down onto his frame, warming his metal hide. He gusted air out of his side vents and mouth in a relieved sigh.

Cybertronians fliers had the unfortunate tendency to display signs of claustrophobia when in constricted spaces. Galvatron was no exception to this, though his symptoms weren't as severe as some other fliers he knew personally, thanks to his past as a miner. His holo-form had also helped a great deal, being small in comparison to the arching tunnel.

He didn't have to wait for very long. In a few moments the assassin's team of specters emerged from the building. As he watched, each member altered their appearance into the old Cybertronian forms to better ferry their unconscious passengers to custody.

Alright, it seemed to him that the pros of being dead far outweighed the cons. Not that he was debating forcibly joining the team through reprehensible means – not at all. He was still severed. It would be a while before he could rejoin his fallen kin in the Allspark. But slag did Ghost Recon have their fair share of useful advantages.

As he followed the bizarre spectral convoy from above, his mind darted back to the warning Primus had issued just before he had leapt into the abandoned subway tunnel – something about a foul darkness. What had he meant by that? Had it come from the gathered villains? Or had it come from another source that had elected not to show itself?

He was rather taken aback when Primus hemmed uncertainly: '_I am….unsure. Perhaps both? I honestly do not know._'

Hm. That was a little discomfiting. Well, then maybe it had been his increased proximity to the Hood's dark enchantments?

'_Perhaps._' It sounded like he was holding something back from him now.

"You're not sounding very certain of yourself today."

'_It is…difficult to explain to one who cannot sense such things. When you approached that subway tunnel entrance I sensed a foul darkness skittering around just beyond your realm of sight. I do not wish to alarm you, but I think there might have been a temporary dimensional weakness that led to Mephisto's realm of Limbo._'

"Oh. Yes, that would definitely set someone like _you_ off. But nothing happened, so there's no need to worry about it."

'_I sincerely hope you are right. This is perhaps something we need to inform Ghost Rider of, though. It is his task to correct such dimensional weaknesses and to banish whatever dark creatures emerge from full formed rends before sealing it. Majik and Damian Hellstrom are also skilled in such matters._'

Unconsciously the mech's field tightened around him. Try as he might to conceal it from both his allies and his counselor, Galvatron was actually frightened of Ghost Rider to an incredible extent. It was not just his appearance that chilled him, but the list of nightmarish abilities he had.

'_Galvatron, Ghost Rider is not dangerous – not during the day. He will appear as a normal member of society and his motorcycle will appear just as normal as well. All you need do is inform him of the weakness I sensed. I am not asking you go bar hopping with him or to fight demons._'

"Bar hopping?" repeated Galvatron, worried.

'_Never mind. You will understand once you have spoken with him._'

He opened a comm. channel to Winter Soldier: "Barnes? I'm veering off. There's someone I need to go see about something that's bothering the little voice in my head. Nothing major, but he's a bit off-set by something he picked up down there in the tunnel."

[A'ight. I guess I'll see you later then. Stay safe out there.]

"You as well, Barnes. Take care. Galvatron out."

With that he pulled away from spectral convoy and shot off into the distance in a loud scream of his powerful engine.

Finding Ghost Rider proved to be a bit of a challenge. According to the little voice in his head, the man was a bit of a nomad in nature, never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time for fear of his powers causing nearby residents trouble. He also rarely used his cell phone because of the dozens he had accidently burned through when his powers manifested.

Hearing that last tidbit of information made the mech snicker a little out of pity. It was understandable that he had almost stopped relying on cell phones. If he left said cell phone in his pocket one night it would be unusable the next day, either partially melted or burned. Fire powers did have their share of downsides it seemed.

Ghost Rider – known in daylight as Johnathan Blaze – was finally located in a small section of apartments in Brooklyn. They weren't the fanciest block of buildings around, but they were still in good repair. The man himself was outside performing basic maintenance on his surprisingly normal –albeit customized – looking bike.

Unsure of how to get the man's attention, Galvatron revved his engine. He observed the man jolt in surprise and jerk his head up to look at him quizzically. He seemed mainly curious, but there was a slight hint of uncertainty in his blue eyes. It looked like he remembered him from Cybertron.

"Can I…help you?"

"You are Johnathan Blaze, the Ghost Rider?" Galvatron asked.

"Call me Johnny. I'll be with ya in a sec. Lemme finish this up first." He gestured at the bike with an oil-stained hand. "Then you'll have my full attention."

Galvatron acceded to this request and fell silent as the man went about his task. There was a noticeable amount of loving care he put into the vehicle, as it were a part of him. In a sense, he supposed, that was true. Both he and the motorcycle possessed the same power.

In a few minutes the man was done. The man got up off his knees then, brushing some of grease and oil off his hands and onto his well-worn jeans. Still he kept his gaze locked on the talking vehicle in the air above him, but now the uncertainty from before was mostly gone. Now only the curiousness remained.

"Now, is there somethin' I can do for ya?"

Thus encouraged, the aircraft lowered down. "I have information for you."

Blaze eyed him: "What sort of information we talkin' here?"

Galvatron quickly informed him of the little voice's sensing of dark power within the abandoned tunnel, and it might have been. It was believed that the Hood's own dark magic and the condensing of evil was what had caused the near breach to occur in the first place.

"Hmm, most likely. Hood's cloak and boots he stole from a Nishanti demon when he was younger. He interrupted a summoning ritual when doing a robbery, killed the demon and stole its cloak and boots. That's where his powers stem from, you know. It's not dark magic – it's demon magic. There's a difference. Trust me."

"What _is_ the difference?"

For a moment the man's eyes flickered red. "Dark magic is simply dark. It does truly pose any real danger to the user. Demon magic corrupts and consumes the user until there is nothing left inside them. No heart, no conscience – no soul. Nothing."

Then his eyes went back to normal. He nodded. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll see if I can round up Damian into the gig. We'll make sure that weakness never turns into a full out breach. None of those monsters are gonna get through."

'_Thank you, Johnathan._'

"He says thanks."

Blaze cracked a wry smile. "No problem. Glad to know there's _one_ god of light out there that _doesn't_ wanna rip my guts out. By the way – thanks for lettin' me tag along for the whole Cybertron thing. I didn't think you'd let me. That was damned fun. I was gettin' sick of fighting demons. Robo-zombies and a Chaos Lord was a nice change of pace."

"You have a very disturbing idea of the word 'fun', you know that?"

The man laughed, though it seemed slightly forced. Coupled with the red eyes and what little he knew of Ghost Rider through investigation, he assumed it was not the man laughing but the Pit-spawned _thing_ locked inside him. It made his plating crawl uneasily.

Blaze winced. "Sorry. I guess you know what it's like to have a monster caged inside you."

Yes. He knew.


	21. Chapter 21: Rendezvous

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 21**

After bidding Ghost Rider a polite farewell, Galvatron made his adieu from the demonically possessed man and his possessed motorcycle with a surprising amount of hesitation. He had thought he was the only one who knew what it was like to have a monster caged inside one, but now he had found someone who had suffered a similar fate, and still suffered from it to this very day.

Was there a way to help the man? Was there a way to remove the Pit-spawned thing that had been locked inside his very soul? Was there a way to free him?

'_Galvatron, you need not worry yourself endlessly over Mr. Blaze's fate. You would be surprised to know that Zarathos does not control Johnathan in any way. On the contrary, Zarathos is forced to obey Mr. Blaze's orders. Johnathan has learned to control the demon over time and through assisted practice, and now they share an almost symbiotic – if somewhat begrudging – relationship._'

"Really?"

'_Really. More than once he has saved the man a crippling injury by forcing the Ghost Rider transformation on him. Because if Johnathan dies, so does he._'

Huh. That was an odd way of looking at a demonic possession, but now such a possession didn't seem inherently negative to him any longer. Zarathos was actively protecting someone he saw as an asset - even if said asset had been forced upon him - but not in a mean-spirited fashion like Unicron had done with him. It was a symbiotic partnership rather than a parasitical one. Zarathos protected Johnathan Blaze, and in return Blaze gave him a sense of purpose by keeping the demonic legions of Limbo constrained to their dimension, wrangling any if they got loose.

Galvatron and his mental counselor lapsed into companionable silence as the aircraft flew around while searching the streets and skies for some subtle sign of Winters Soldier or his spectral team. He wanted to make sure they had gotten the captured villains safely to the Raft. He also just wanted a little more interaction with them. They seemed like such a bizarre bunch to him - secretive yet outgoing and teasingly playful. Barnes himself evidently did his best to keep the team below the radar so they had the advantage of surprise, but Galvatron knew there was more to it than that:

Barnes was intensely protective of his little team. He had even seen such protectiveness firsthand on Cybertron. He looked after them like an older brother looked after younger siblings. Ghost Recon were the brothers - the family - he had never had as Winter Soldier. If he lost them through any means he would shatter like a panel of glass.

He felt his counselor stir uneasily at the back of his mind, as if his thoughts had dredged up something he had been trying to either skirt around or else avoid entirely. That did not bode well to him. Was Primus actively lying to Barnes about something relating to Ghost Recon?

The deity sighed: '_No, not lying. All you did was bring up a harsh point in a bluntly poetic manner. Ghost Recon will eventually have to return to me at some point, as per their deal with me for being sent back to the land of the living. Staying here indefinitely was not part of the contract I made with them._'

Alright, then what exactly was this contract he'd made with them, then? He was still puzzling over why they were here to begin with. He had though leaving the Allspark wasn't possible.

'_Their contract (though I prefer to say "mission") is to help Barnes come to terms with his past. They are to assist him in gaining closure, so that he may one day soon return to the Avengers, guiltless and free of shame. It is a long term assignment, but it will eventually come to an end. At that point, they are to return to the Allspark. And to me.'_

Galvatron mentally winced. Well, _that_ day would not pretty when it came about. Like he'd said, Barnes would shatter as though made of glass if Ghost Recon were taken from him. Was Barnes himself aware of this inevitable outcome, or was he being in the dark to save his feelings until the last possible moment?

'_He knows. He is not at peace with it, but he knows._' Primus murmured softly.

The sheer amount of emotional anguish in his voice nearly made the mech's spark crack in half. He didn't _want_ to take Ghost Recon away from Winter Soldier, but that was what would eventually happen once their mission of closure was complete. When one made a contract with the deity there was no getting around it, no going back on it - it was binding. They had known that the moment the contract had been formed, and Barnes knew as well due to his role as their target and leader.

He may not be totally accepting of it, but there was no avoiding it. Hopefully when that day came there would be someone to help him through that loss.

With a faint growl of his engine he took off in the direction of the Bay. Now he really had a desire to find the former Hydra assassin before he slipped under the radar once again, lost to the shadows. If he vanished before he managed to get to him at the Raft he would be very difficult to locate, in no small part thanks to his subterfuge training.

* * *

Fortunately, he did manage to reach the Raft just as Ghost Recon was making their way out, captured villains safely stored away in the massive prison's cells. They seemed quite pleased with themselves, and with what Galvatron knew of the Maggia that was understandable. With them down a lieutenant the criminal organization would suffer from a power struggle in its ranks as they tried to fill the power void. That would leave them vulnerable and open to outside attack.

Jazz and Skywarp both hollered up to him with twin waves and broad grins. Obviously they'd been expecting him to bump into them a second time, and were more than happy he had managed to intersect them before they went back under the radar with their leader. After all, their squadron name was "Ghost" Recon. After a successful mission they would vanish just like a phantom would, only to reappear again when needed or called upon. Criminals were a superstitious lot, and this tactic only served to increase the supernatural fear their presence invoked.

"Heyo! Come on down!" Jazz shouted cheerfully, waving at him expectantly.

Galvatron lowered down, but elected to remain in vehicle form. It seemed fairly obvious to him that the team was about to head out once again, most likely to one of their numerous safe-houses he'd heard they used, and he'd rather not keep them waiting. He could talk to them while they moved about below him. It was more efficient that way.

They started off, Winter Soldier taking the lead on foot while four little colorful light orbs bobbed along behind him. Faintly visible around them like mirages were the spectral, human forms of the disguised sparks, but they were very faint - barely visible. Occasionally the man would reach out and lightly bop at the orbs playfully. Galvatron personally wondered at this while mentally smiling to himself. Barnes seemed not to really care that, in a sense, he was being "haunted".

Seeing as they had a giant aircraft following them from above, sticking to their usual side-streets and alleys wasn't as viable an option at the moment. Instead they chose to use less populated but still active main streets. While most other people walking by didn't seem to mind the odd sight of a man in black combat fatigues being followed by a bunch of floating lights who were in turn being followed by a giant aircraft - frankly they'd seen weirder sights - a few people they passed cast startled glances at them the nonetheless.

Jazz, Skywarp, and Cliffjumper seemed to relish the attention, their forms growing a little bit more distinct as they casually waved at startled passerby.

Mirage, on the other hand, pulled his blue and white hood up and kept his gaze locked on the pavement under him. He was social and polite when it came to interaction, but he wasn't very fond of being stared at. Oh, the trials of being a ghost. Why couldn't Barnes have taken a side-street? All these people staring at him was making uncomfortable.

He jolted when he felt a hand placed on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Barnes's gloved hand and wrist laying there, a little half-smirk, half-smile forming on his lips. Barnes winked and nodded silently at him, jerking his head over to an alley they were about to pass by.

Just like that, Mirage turned down the alley, shimmered, and vanished. Galvatron distinctly heard Barnes murmur under his breath two words:

"Scaredy 'Bot..."

The others heard him and broke into quiet snickers. Above, they heard the sound of the aircraft's engine rolling along in mechanical chuckling.

Winter Soldier looked up at the aircraft, his expression slightly embarrassed. He'd rather not draw any more attention, especially since they were heading to a safe-house, and police comm. chatter was saying that the Avengers were finished with Zzzax. It was probably best that the mech head on home now before any more unwanted attention was drawn on them.

"Hey Galv?"

He felt the vehicle's attention fall on him. "Yes?"

"Maybe it's best we part ways here. I gotta get my guys back home safely, and well..." He trailed off awkwardly, inwardly feeling immensely rude for dismissing him in such an abrupt manner. All this mech wanted to do was help him and protect him, and here he was essentially giving him the boot. God, he felt like such a jerk right now.

Thankfully the mech didn't seem upset, instead replying understandingly: "Very well."

Galvatron began to pull away, but stopped when Barnes shouted out for him to come really quickly, saying he wanted to give him something. The mech felt a ping as a data packet was transmitted to him from the assassin. He opened it to find the man's personal comm. frequency along with those of each of his squad mates.

"In case you ever need another assist with the Maggia or their supergoons. Or, you know, you just get bored one day and have no one to talk to." Barnes explained hastily, still sounding massively embarrassed and also surprisingly shy. Barnes really was just a boy shoved into an adult role.

"Thank you." Galvatron accepted. He'd personally believed he would never get these frequencies due to the team's phantom-like behavior - there one minute and gone the next. Frankly there were a few sensitive questions he wanted to ask them at some point, namely about their place of origin. It wasn't everyday a severed mech could ask an already merged spark about the Allspark's nature. He wanted - no, he _yearned_ \- to know: What was it like there?

Then with a loud roar of his engine he rocketed off, soon leaving the assassin and his spectral band of brothers behind.

* * *

Reaching the Bronx in record time, the mech set about trying to contact his team mates. However, all he got back from their respective ID card frequencies was screeching, unnerving static. But in hindsight that made sense. It didn't mean the Avengers were missing or dead, far from it. It just meant that Zzzax had obviously fried their ID cards' communication relays - no doubt along with everything else electronic in the general vicinity of their battle with the energy creature.

Oh, the power companies were going to have a field day with this villain-caused, possibly borough-wide blackout. Repairs to all of the power cables and telephone lines and other household utilities such as lights and air conditioners would take quite a while, he knew. They'd be at that task for a while. Of course, that wasn't even counting the undoubted collateral damage such a fight resulted in - but the Avengers were very good at keeping collateral damage to a minimum, and such repairs would be overseen by the group known rather simply as "Damage Control".

So, foregoing trying to contact them wirelessly, he set about searching for them visually and via his scanners. What he was looking for was a concentrated spike in gamma radiation - the tell-tale sign of the Hulk. If he found the Hulk then he would find the Avengers not too far away.

'_Ah. A clever strategy._'

Eventually he managed to locate what he was looking for, and he zeroed in on it like an overeager bloodhound. He wanted to know whether or not they were unharmed, and whether or not Zzzax had been successfully captured. How did one capture a being of gamma-enhanced, sentient electricity anyway? Stick it in a specialized Tesla coil or something?

He heard his counselor chuckle gently: '_Something like that, yes._'

Drawing nearer to the source of the gamma spike, he easily picked out the bulky green figure of the Hulk accompanied by the other colorful forms of the Avengers and the fluctuating ionic form of Wonder Man who appeared none the worse for wear despite being made of energy. The area around them didn't appear too badly damaged - most of the damage was obviously electrical and not physical - though there were a few small puffs of smoke coming from fried telephone poles and other power-conducting objects.

"Galv!" Ms. Marvel cried out in what sounded an awful lot like relief. His spark swelled knowing how much she - how much _they_ all cared about him.

He flew over and greeted her: "Major. I trust you and your allies were successful?"

"Yep! We caught Zappy!" Wasp reported cheerfully.

She grinned over at Tony and Wonder Man who were busy fiddling with what looked like some sort of giant capacitor or power cell. Inside was an agitated mass of yellowish electricity that seemed to be trying with all of its might to overload its prison and escape, only to fail every single time as the temporary prison counteracted these attempts. Every so often, two burning white eyes seemed to form out of the mass before disappearing.

"So I can see." He noted, himself relieved that Stark had taken the necessary precautions when entrapping the creature. Iron Man, despite his genius-level intellect, was just as prone to making mistakes as any other person, especially when pressed for time. Thankfully he now had Simon to assist him in power-related issues such as this.

"Vision and Carol are gonna fly this sucker over to the Raft and into the Radon wing where all the Cube prisoners are kept. Doc Samson radioed us and said he'd take it from there."

Galvatron's interest perked. "Who?"

"Friend of Hulk's - well, technically Dr. Banner's - who so happens to be a friend of ours in consequence." Cap clarified. "He's a former Cube technician who got accidentally dosed with gamma radiation when the place blew sky high during the Breakout, but he never went full gamma monster. One of the good guys. We offered him a place on the team, but he declined. Does what he can to help us regardless."

Hawkeye smirked up at him. "What 'bout you? Get into any trouble while we were busy?"

"Archer." Thor scolded, casting a reproving glare at him.

Clint shrugged nonchalantly: "What? We all know the guy's reputation by now. I'm just askin' is all. You never ask, you never know."

Galvatron replied rather cheekily yet casually: "Oh, nothing at all serious. Traced a Maggia supervillain to a secret underground meeting; inadvertently helped lead a team of ghosts right to them; aided their ambush; had a little talk with Ghost Rider; helped stop a possible demonic incursion by warning him of a dimensional weakness..."

Every single Avenger stared at him in disbelieving shock. Their eyes were as wide as they could go as they stared up at the great dark aircraft hovering above them.

"What. The. Actual. Hell." Hawkeye gawked slack-jawed. Then a massive grin spread out, practically reaching ear to ear. He gesticulated wildly with his hands before pointing at their alien team mate, exclaiming: "What did I tell you guys? I called it! I freakin' called it!"

"We can't seem to leave you alone for five minutes, can we?" T'Challa observed amusedly, head to one side as he regarded the aircraft.

"Okay, that's _definitely_ a story for when we get back to base!" Ant-Man laughed. "I think we _all_ want to hear the full version of _that_ little escapade!"

Thor roared in laughter at his side: "Decidedly!"

Hawkeye was on his skycycle in an instant, forcing the vehicle into the air excitedly. "Then what're we standin' around here for? Let's go!"

And just like that the other Avengers either took to the air, hopped onto their waiting vehicles, or simply started off down the nearly empty streets of the Bronx.

* * *

As soon as they were gone the dark burgundy trucks of Damage Control rolled in to begin their task of reconstruction - which was thankfully very minor this time around - while the multi-colored trucks of the various power companies snaked in behind them. With the heroes gone they could begin their task without further ado.

Interestingly enough, if one looked closely, one would discover that two of these responding vehicles, each labeled with the growling bulldog logo of Damage Control, were apparently driver-less. And if one _listened_ closely, one could hear the two vehicles speaking to one another and to the workers nearby:

"Yo, what happened this time, bro?" One of the vehicles demanded of the other. It was a heavily built but not massive crane-like vehicle, the type most often seen after heavy thunderstorms repairing power lines. Neatly hidden on the crane's trolley was a Cybertronian Neutral crest.

It's friend, an equally bulky Chevy pick-up truck with the same crest hidden beneath it's control panel, replied: "Heard it was some kinda energy monster. Lucky for us. Means our job's gonna be easy. Don' have to risk droppin' our cover for any heavy liftin'. Could use a break from tha' hones'ly. Tha' fight with the Wrecking Crew a while ago - sweet Solus Prime that was a lotta damage!"

"It was the _Wrecking Crew_. What'd ya expect, bro? It's in their slaggin' name." The crane deadpanned humorously.

A muscular, African-American man nimbly jumped out of one of the Damage Control vehicles that was just arriving on the scene. Cupping both hands over his mouth, the man hollered over in their direction: "Jib, Drawbar, you boys ready?"

"Ready as we'll eva be, boss-man!" They replied cheerfully, engines revving eagerly.

The foreman grinned. Having friendly, faction-less Cybertronians under his employ was a little bizarre, but it was worth it. His father had found the two hiding out in an old salvage yard in Jersey years ago just as Damage Control was starting to come together as a company, and his old man had kept them secret per request, only revealing them when he was older and capable of understanding. They were more or less part of the family now. He wouldn't have it any other way.

"Then let's get this job done."

* * *

**Author's Note: ****Yeah, it's another short-ish chapter. My brain's being a bit of jerk right now in terms of plot. I'm thinking it might be time for Galv to switch teams for a bit to spice up the interactions. What do you guys think - X-Men? New Avengers? Fantastic Four maybe? Sound off in the comments what you guys think!**

***Note: I don't know a ton about Ghost Rider (and I'm not going off Movie-verse lore because of it's inaccuracies), so I kind of like to think that Zarathos and Johnny Blaze are kind of like frenemies in the more light-toned yet still serious EMH universe. They're forced to work together by Mephisto's design and doing, but enough time has passed that I think they've started to get along, albeit grudgingly.**

***Note: I've always like the idea of Neutrals kind of just hanging around on Earth and keeping a low profile while doing what they can to help out the humans. Jib (the crane) and Drawbar (the pickup) are two such Neutrals I came up with. I like to think these two have been on Earth for a while, but only fairly recently joined up with Damage Control. Don't worry - they enjoy it! :3**


	22. Chapter 22: A Mutant In Need

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 22**

* * *

While Vision and Ms. Marvel were busy delivering their captured prize to the Raft's Radon Wing, the other Avengers and their alien squad mate had by then regrouped back at their headquarters in Midtown. All of the human members were more than eager to hear of Galvatron's escapade with the Maggia's resident superthugs and his subsequent little encounters with Ghost Rider and Ghost Recon. It wasn't every day that the spectral team was bumped into, as they kept well under the public radar and hidden from prying eyes, and Ghost Rider wasn't exactly the most approachable person in existence thanks to Zarathos's demonic nature.

Cap himself was immensely curious to know how his old partner was doing, and was visibly relieved and comforted to know that Winter Soldier was doing perfectly fine, and was treating his ghost friends the same way the soldier treated his own team – like family. They looked out for each other like good team mates did. And Winter Soldier wasn't afraid to playfully heckle and tease them about their weaknesses and pet peeves, as he had with Mirage, but he was never malicious about such things and would happily accommodate them.

The soldier cracked a smile and chuckled: "Heh. Yeah, that's sounding like the old Bucky I knew during the War. He was a trouble maker, but very dependable. Always enjoyed being helpful. Wasn't afraid to tease me, either – but when are friends ever afraid to mess with each other?"

He glanced over at Hawkeye and Tony with a strangely knowing yet mischievous smirk on his lips. Both men's eyes narrowed at him in return, feeling like they were being openly accused, but in a playful, harmless way. All three men were well known for teasing one another and screwing around at the other's expense even in the heat of a battle, rather like siblings behaved.

"So? What did you think of Johnny?" Tony wondered after a moment, directing his eyes to the black-winged holo-form standing at the other end of the Assembly Hall's long table, the man himself casually sitting atop the table like a rebellious teenager in a high school class. "I mean, the last time you saw him it was pretty obvious you were scared of him."

Galvatron shrugged: "Perhaps I was, but once I discovered his possession situation was similar to mine the fear simply went away. I thought I was the only one who could know what it was like to have a monster trapped inside you, but that man proved me wrong on all accounts. I was rather surprised to find that Zarathos is the one who is forced to obey Blaze's commands and not the other way around, and that their partnership is symbiotic. I was not expecting that."

"Yeah, they're an odd pair alright." Ant-Man admitted, nodding. "Zarathos is a bit of a jerk to be honest, but Johnny's a good man if a bit brash and stubborn and prone to occasional moodiness. I don't blame him."

"Because, you know, he's got a _demon_ living inside him." Wasp chirped in her two cents. "Not fun."

"But he has learned to make the most of it." T'Challa finished philosophically, leaning forward onto the table, folding his hands together, and gesturing with a single finger at the female size-changer. "And I believe that is what counts here, Wasp. One may be given a bad hand in life, but sooner or later one finds a way to turn a seemingly bad situation into a positive, advantageous ones."

Even though Black Panther's gaze was locked onto Wasp's it was plain this comment was intended for the holo-form at the other end of the table. Galvatron found himself nodding imperceptibly at the words. Yes, his possession had been a nightmarish and frankly traumatic experience, but if it hadn't happened the way it had, he might not be standing here with these fine people, helping to protect an entire world from threats.

If anyone considered himself incredibly fortunate, he sure as slag did. Fortunate _and_ lucky.

* * *

Hours passed by rather uneventfully. Police radio chatter was monitored per the usual order, but nothing very note-worthy or dangerous was overheard by the patrollers. There were a few sketchy sightings of Hand ninjas roaming Hell's Kitchen, plus a few petty, harmless graffiti artists being caught in the act in another area of the city. It seemed that Zzzax's rampage through the Bronx borough had driven a good number of powered criminals into hiding until they were one hundred percent positive the energy creature had been dealt with by the heroes.

No one really faulted the criminals for that. If anything, it gave the heroes a bit of a welcome respite, no matter how short that respite was.

Evening fell on the city before long, and New York was once again transformed into a massive metropolis of light and movement. Galvatron, soon becoming restless due to seeming inactivity, flew out into the city in search of trouble. He knew that night was the preferred time for criminals big and small to come out and begin causing trouble, using the shadows that night brought to work in secret.

However, one police report caught Galvatron's attention when it came through, and for two main reasons. First and foremost was that the radio signal was quite close to his current position. Secondly was that a group was mentioned that he had not yet heard of: Purifiers. From the sounds of things they were not a friendly group by any means, and they were busy hunting and chasing a young girl in the vicinity, firing blasters at her. Stranger still, going by the patroller's radio chatter regarding her heading, this young girl was making a bee line for Avengers Mansion.

Whenever someone was being chased and was heading towards a hero squadron base, it more often than not meant they needed help – badly. Perhaps he could intercept her and give her a lift since she was headed there anyway, in the process dealing with her pursuers. He would do the research surrounding said pursuers once this girl was safely in Avengers custody.

'_Make haste then. I sense she is weak, and her hunters draw ever closer. If they capture her, she will not survive to see the dawn._'

He didn't need to be told twice. He took off in the girl's direction in a loud scream of his engine, pushing his thrusters to their very limits. Time was off the essence in this situation, and he would not allow an innocent human femme to be harmed by a bunch of armed thugs intent on killing her. He was here to protect, and protect he would.

* * *

Finding the girl proved to be simplicity itself. He didn't have to use his motion scanners, nor did he have to rely on police radio chatter to infer her current position. All he had to do was zero in on the sounds of blaster fire and panicked shrieks coming from about two dozen blocks away from Avengers Mansion. The streets below were rapidly clearing as passerby scrambled to avoid the energy shots fired by the five thugs. While still some distance away, he was able to zoom in on the commotion.

The girl herself he failed to recognize as she didn't match the visual descriptions of anyone he knew. Her long hair was bleach white and looked like it hadn't been tended to in days, and her rich blue eyes were glazed with terror as she ran in a stumbling manner to keep ahead of her foes. She wore a pale grey tank top shirt with a light aquamarine feather design slanting across it that was much the worse for wear, ripped blue jeans, and wore no shoes. Draped across her back was a tattered trench coat much like the one his holo-form wore to conceal his wings.

"Get back here, freak!" One of the thugs shouted, firing off another round from his blaster.

The girl shrieked and ducked to avoid the shot, stumbling from physical exhaustion. He didn't even bother to scan her to see if she was injured. From the way she had been favoring her right side he knew that some portion of her leg was either sprained, fractured, or broken. She wouldn't be able to rise to defend herself even if she wanted to. She was just too weak right now.

He gave the thugs ample warning, revving his engine loudly as he drew nearer. All six humans jerked their heads up to look at him, and all six looked uneasy. Hang on. Did that mean the girl had no idea he was an ally? What was it with people lately and not recognizing him as one of the good guys?

'_Probably because you do not have the Avengers crest on your frame._'

Oh. He would most likely need to see Tony or Ratchet about getting that crest put on so this wouldn't keep happening, then. But that was another matter for another time. Right now he had to scare these armed thugs away before this poor girl got hurt any worse. And he had a pretty good idea on how to accomplish that. He just to hope that the girl didn't panic when she saw his real form.

"Leave the girl alone. Disband now." Galvatron snarled.

One of the thugs, a young man who quite honestly seemed he should belong in a college classroom and not hunting random innocents, hefted his blaster and aimed it at him:

"Oh yeah? What makes you think we'll listen to you, alien? You don't even belong here!"

At that the aircraft emitted a string of strange noises from its interior and began to shift and fold on itself, much to the shock and awe of the six humans clustered beneath it. With a ground-shaking thud a towering titan of grey and black metal stood looming over them like an infuriated mountain. The man who had taunted the aircraft suddenly appeared to be second guessing now whether or not that had really been a wise choice. He also appeared to be debating whether or not he would live to tell about this.

Galvatron peered down at the five armed thugs, knowing full fell he didn't even need to attempt to look intimidating: "Disband now or I squash you like the annoying little insects you are. Do we understand each other?"

Apparently they didn't, because the thug in the lead barked an order to fire at will to his lackeys, saying the alien filth needed to be removed before they could deal with their true target. All the while the injured girl sat huddled on the cement, shivering inside her trench coat, waiting for the worst happen. But the thugs never got the chance.

Lifting one pede off the ground, he slammed it down with enough force to make the ground shake, forcing the thugs to lose their footing and fall. Their blasters clattered to the floor as the girl emitted a frightened squeak followed by a pained little noise, holding her leg. Internally the mech winced on seeing this. If there was that much pain then her main leg support struts were obviously broken. Once these armed nuisances were gone he would have to apologize for that. He hadn't meant to hurt her.

"I will repeat this only once more. Disband. Now." Galvatron growled, towering over them. His red optics narrowed.

Still the thugs appeared to not understand his warning, even though fear factor was beginning to play into the equation.

"_SCRAM_!"

Not needing any more encouragement, the five armed thugs scrambled to their feet and ran off as fast as their legs could carry them. They didn't even bother to grab their blasters. One of them screamed something about metal aliens from Mars as he ran, panicked and terrified, from the scene. In moments each of the five thugs were gone from sight.

Satisfied, the mech turned his attention to the other issue at hand, kneeling down to address the scared, wounded girl, but she worriedly tried to scooch away from him, rich blue eyes wide and glazed with fear. She whimpered, pulling the tattered trench coat closer to her body as though it might protect from the giant metal alien near her.

He forced his voice to be as gentle and un-frightening as possible. Reaching towards her with one massive hand, he said: "It's alright. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a friend."

She stared silently at him, skeptical and afraid. He couldn't blame her, not after he'd accidentally set off the sensitive nerve endings in her injured leg. Being closer to her now, he could see the numerous bruises and lacerations covering any bit of exposed skin. Red, iron-rich blood oozed out of her cuts. She was quite lanky in her appearance despite being only about five feet tall, but now she looked unhealthily thin and scrawny from lack of nutrients. It was a wonder this girl was even still conscious. Slag, it was a wonder she was still alive.

"I'm sorry for indirectly hurting you. I didn't mean for that to happen."

Some of the fear vanished on her hearing that. Still she refused to speak a word, her tongue seemingly immobile from fright.

"I can get you someplace safe so you can recuperate. You were heading for the Avengers' headquarters, correct?"

She nodded once.

"I can take you there. I'm one of them."

The skepticism returned with a vengeance. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was clear that she was debating whether or not to believe him. Oh, what he would give for an Avengers insignia right now. It would make convincing her so much easier.

Idly he noted a strange sensation inside his mind. It wasn't a sensation he could describe with words alone. It was...unusual, like another consciousness was skimming through his conscious and subconscious mind rather clumsily for something, but the presence was so faint he barely registered it, nor did he really pay it any heed. Weirder still was that Primus didn't react to it adversely. Instead, he seemed to give the other presence what it wanted – verification.

Then the girl's skepticism vanished just as rapidly as it had shown up. The fear in her eyes faded away. She managed a weakened and tired yet fully trusting smile up at him. That look told him she knew who he was now, and she was no longer afraid of him. Somehow, she knew now that he was a friend, and that he wouldn't hurt her. But there was something else in her expression too – it was almost reverence.

"_Caraid_." murmured the girl, her accent distinctly Scottish. His translation programs latched onto the strange word and deciphered it. It was the Scottish Gaelic word that meant "friend". Good. She truly did trust him now it seemed. Now he could get her to the Avengers' infirmary and into the care of Jane Foster.

She did not struggle or attempt to shy away from him as he gingerly scooped her off the ground, doing his best to keep her injured leg immobile. Very carefully he transformed around her until she was situated inside his cockpit. He didn't care that her wounds were slowly leaking blood into his interior. Right now all he cared about was her survival.

"Hold on. I'll get you to the Avengers. They can help you."

Already the girl was unconscious from sheer physical exhaustion. But once more that he felt that strange sensation in his mind. He knew his words hadn't fallen on deaf ears. Somehow, he knew she had just thanked him. Without further ado, he shot off into the air and banked around towards the Mansion, keeping his flight as smooth as silk so as not to disturb his passenger.

* * *

The Avengers were beginning to delegate this night's watch duty when Jarvis's voice rang out urgently:

"Avengers, I do not wish to alarm any of you, but Galvatron has returned from his patrols earlier than anticipated. He has just entered the building's sub-level launch bay. Preliminary scans show traces of blood on his frame, and there is a human life sign detectable within his vehicle form. He is also sending out a distress signal and specifically asking for Ms. Foster – being rather persistent about I might add."

Jane's eyes went round. She barked an order to the others to prep the infirmary, and then Vision promptly grabbed her and phased her through the floor down into the sub-levels to save time. Galvatron wasn't a killer anymore, so this must mean he had found someone injured on the streets and taken them in, and perhaps suspecting a hospital might not be the safest option.

She would not know until a few moments later how right that suspicion on hers would prove to be.

* * *

The first sight that met Vision and Jane was the familiar form of Galvatron's vehicle form, but the android's sharp optical sensors easily detected the tiny smears of red blood on his frame, though they were quite small and spaced out. Obviously whoever was inside his cockpit wasn't in danger of bleeding out, however they were just as obviously injured.

Both stood back as the aircraft very carefully transformed around his passenger until the mech stood crouched on the launch pad. His red optics were alight with worry as he extended a hand out to show them the girl he had rescued off the streets, still unconscious.

"Oh good Lord!" Jane gasped. She whirled around to face the android while taking off the light jacket she was wearing, placing it on the floor to act as a makeshift bedroll to protect her from the cool tile and cement. "Galv, put her there. Vision, go grab my kit, would you? As fast as you can!"

The mech obeyed wordlessly, gently placing her on the jacket. Vision nodded once silently and shot up through the ceiling like an oddly colored phantom, reappearing only moments later with the desired first aid kit which he quickly handed over to its owner. Jane set to work without any delays, grabbing various items such as gauze and alcohol swabs to clean the girl's countless cuts and lacerations. The girl herself stirred faintly at the stinging of the alcohol seeping into the wounds, but she did not wake.

Once satisfied, the paramedic glanced up at him: "Where did you find her?"

"I intercepted a police transmission regarding a young woman be chased around this general vicinity. She was heading this way, specifically towards this building it seemed. I found her to be pursued by five armed thugs. I scared them off. I brought her here in accordance with that knowledge." Galvatron explained.

Thor appeared from the lift just then as if summoned by magic, or perhaps the knowledge that Jane would need some help in transporting her patient to the team's infirmary. Both shared a glance and a nod.

"Be gentle with her, Thor. Her leg's broken from what I can see. I'll be up in just a sec to set up the IV. She's suffering from dehydration and malnutrition. I just need to clean up here. I'll need to get a splint for her leg as well, but maybe one of you guys could grab that for me. Right now we need to get some fluids in her more than anything."

Thor nodded and gingerly removed her from the floor, being careful not to let her leg move too much. It was weird how thin and scrawny she looked in contrast to the big and burly Asgardian warrior. But never was there a gentler giant than he. Thor may be immensely powerful and as strong as the Hulk on a rampage, but never would he harm someone under his care, especially if that someone was a lady.

Jane quickly cleaned up her impromptu work area, slinging the blood stained jacket over her shoulder and hefting the first aid kit. Her whole manner was brisk and business-like while at the same time hugely concerned, even alarmed. When she glanced up at the mech a second time, her eyes showed she was mildly suspicious.

"Meet us in the infirmary. There's something you're not telling me about her. I want to know what."

Galvatron acceded to this request, saying he would meet the paramedic there and relinquish any information he had thus far gathered on the girl. Internally he was wondering how she had known he was holding something back. But when it came to injured innocents, the woman was practically psychic. Healers had their own unique set of instincts. She simply knew.

"Good."

She turned on her heals and soon vanished down one of the side corridors in the direction of the infirmary.

* * *

Everyone was eerily silent in the infirmary as Jane went about her task – hooking in an IV to the girl's arm, checking her pulse and temperature, as well as drawing a small sample of her blood to test for mineral deficiencies and other problems brought on by her deplorable condition. Vision politely ran an X-Ray of the girl's injured leg for her without even being asked to do so, displaying the result on the paramedic's ID card.

"Poor kid." Hawkeye noted, breaking the silence at last.

Jane finally finished and turned her attention to the holo-form standing in the doorway. "Alright, mister. Talk. You said armed thugs were after her, but I'm thinking there was more to it than that."

Yes, there had been. "The police transmission identified them as Purifiers. I do know of that group particularly, though they were not friendly by any accounts. They even attempted to fire on me when I intercepted them."

He saw select few Avengers tense at hearing him say that. Hulk flat-out growled aggressively, fists clenching. Wasp and Captain Rogers alone looked quite pained and sympathetic as they gazed first at the unconscious girl and then at Galvatron's holo-form.

"Who are they? What did they want with her? Why were they attempting to kill her?" Galvatron demanded.

"Purifiers are bunch of anti-mutant extremist lunatics." Tony explained quietly, his voice laced with anger. "They locate mutants, hunt them down, and kill them. They think mutants are freaks of nature that don't deserve the right to live and need to be exterminated before they pollute the world's human gene pool."

Galvatron stared in disbelief. That sensation he had felt then – was this girl a budding mutant telepath? If so, then perhaps that blood test Jane was still running was intended for more than just medical purposes. Perhaps Jane suspected the girl was a mutant and was running a genetic test to find the mutant "X" gene, confirming her suspicions. And what was more, when he voiced this theory, he found he was right almost instantly.

Jarvis reported in at that moment, relaying all he had found medically in relation to the blood test. Then he said the words everyone had been unconsciously waiting for:

"Mutant 'X' gene isolated; confirmed. Patient is a mutant, though I am still attempting to identify her."

"Why didn't she go for the X-Men's base then?" Hulk grunted curiously.

Jane cast a glance at him that was scoldingly murderous in appearance: "Because she probably wouldn't have made it there in her condition, Hulk. I'm amazed she was able to walk with a broken leg, much less run with it. If Galvatron hadn't found her when he had, she'd most likely be _dead_. She was pretty much dead on her feet to begin with."

The others were smart enough to pick up an undercurrent of something in her voice, but they couldn't figure out what it was, and Vision had apparently just sent another X-Ray to her ID card. Only Galvatron had the courage to ask her about it:

"There's something more, isn't there?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah. There is. She doesn't just have a broken leg, guys. Something else is broken too. She hid it well, but fortunately this broken limb's not nearly as bad as her leg is. _Un_fortunately, I'm not a licensed veterinarian, so I can't attempt treat it."

She held up her ID card and displayed the android's most recent X-Ray image to them. A small chorus of startled noises and gasps flitted around the infirmary at what they all saw staring back at them on the card's holo-screen. This was unexpected. But now her trench coat didn't seem very out of fashion anymore. It was now very, very sensible.

"She's got a broken wing."


	23. Chapter 23: A Friend In Deed

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 23**

* * *

For a moment no one spoke a word out of shock and surprise. One could've heard a pin drop in the thick silence that permeated the infirmary. Every single member of the team in turn glanced at the unconscious girl on the bed as though visual sight of her could somehow verify the results of the android's scan and the paramedic's revelation regarding her extra, feathered appendages.

Jane shook her head grimly as she sat on the foot of the bed while everyone else simply stayed rooted to their respective spots like posts. It was sickening how many people viewed mutants as affronts or accidents of nature. Far too many young mutants had suffered injury and even death at the hands of extremist groups like the one that had attacked this poor girl. They were just regular people given strange abilities through the simple course of human evolution. It was why they were dubbed by many as "homo superior" – humanity's next genetic leap forward.

Hawkeye broke the silence once more, but he kept his voice quiet so as not to disturb the slumbering mutant: "Should one of us give Professor X a call? Tell him that we've got one of his kids at our base?"

"Master Barton, this young lady is not one of the Professor's students." Jarvis interspersed. "I have gone over the descriptions of all of the Institute's students, and this young lady is not one of them. Be that as it may, it is highly probable that the Professor already knows of her through Cerebro. That is, if she hasn't yet puzzled out how to block other telepaths."

"We need to get her to the Institute regardless. I mean, that's where she belongs." Wonder Man observed. When everyone cast shocked glances at him, he hastily lifted his hands defensively and explained that that wasn't what he'd meant at all. His words had come out wrong – very, very wrong. What he had meant to say was that the Institute could train her to use her budding powers far better than they ever could.

Ms. Marvel agreed, albeit slowly: "He's got a point, like it or not. We're not exactly the Xavier Institute. They specialize in that sort of thing."

Jane glared up at the gathered heroes, a frown beginning to work its way into existence. She said in a strangely chilly voice:

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, guys. Right now this poor kid needs some sleep and recovery time before we send her off to the X-Men. We also need to get that wing of hers tended to somehow. You can discuss all this amongst yourselves _outside_ my infirmary where you _don't_ run the risk of waking my patient up. Do I make myself clear?"

Without a word of protest, every single Avenger filed out of the room as requested. However, one member chose not to listen and stubbornly remained at his post by the doorway, head down and arms crossed across his chest. His own massive black wings were held low, almost limp from what seemed like conscious guilt. His red eyes stared rather numbly at the tiled ground beneath him.

Jane stared at the holo-form for a while in silence, not fully understanding why Galvatron looked so openly guilty. He hadn't done anything wrong, far from it. He had helped save a young girl's life tonight. So why did he look so upset, so ashamed of himself? Was he staying behind because he felt the need to make up for a mistake he'd made recently, or perhaps ones he had made in the past revolving around mutants?

She finally asked after about fifteen eerily silent minutes had gone by: "Galv? What's bugging you?"

He started out of his brooding, jerking his head up to look at her. Those red eyes looked so incredibly guilty that she felt her heart ache in her chest. His black wings seemed to lose their dark sheen and the wing armor itself seemed to dull visibly. It was like his mood was somehow physically dampening and dimming the holo-form's appearance, making it look far more somber than it usually did. He gazed over at the girl on the bed.

"When I rescued her, I inadvertently hurt her in the process. I was intending the scare the Purifiers away with a show of mild force, but when I did so, the resulting shock wave reached her as well, agitating her injury. I should have been more careful. I put too much power into it, and she paid the price for my mistake."

Jane's expression softened to one of sympathy: "Galv, come on. You can't beat yourself up over that. You overestimated your own strength. It happens. And from all I can see, and from what you told me, she doesn't hold that against you. When she reached into your mind to identify you, she knew you hadn't meant to hurt her. Why else do you think she was so willing to trust you afterwards? That's the advantage of telepathy – you always know someone's intentions. She probably even knew that you felt a bit guilty about that. I think she's more grateful to you than upset at you. You scared off her attackers, after all. You saved her life."

While not exactly looking wholly convinced, his guilty expression did lift somewhat at her reassurances.

"Will she be alright?" Galvatron asked after a moment.

"She'll be weak for a day or so, but she should make a full recovery. Malnutrition and dehydration are easily fixed; just have to keep that IV in her for about twelve to twenty-four hours and then she can starting eating and drinking again. A lot of her wounds are pretty superficial; antibiotics'll make sure they don't get infected. Her broken leg will mend by itself with the help of a cast and a splint to keep it straight and immobile, and I'll see to getting a veterinary specialist to see to that wing of hers. Can't be too careful with wings, you know. You have to make sure they heal right. I'm betting Warren will know some good ones."

He nodded, but still the holo-form refused to abandon his self-imposed station at the doorway. He gave a barely audible sigh, folded his arms across his chest once more, and let his head hang down in a more relaxed position than the one it had been held in before. Only the faint glimmer of red from his eyes showed he was still very much alert, waiting for the girl on the bed to awaken. Every so often her caretaker would shift positions and perform various minor checks and calibrations to the medical equipment.

But minutes turned to hours. And still the girl did not wake.

* * *

Their hopes rose when the girl stirred weakly just as dawn began to break outside, eyes fluttering open to reveal their rich blue hue. Their color was unusual to the paramedic – they were a vibrant, dark blue aquamarine shade that mirrored the clear waters of the world's tropical oceans. Strange eye colors weren't unheard of in mutants, but they weren't exactly commonplace, either. Blearily they roamed the infirmary's extent, falling on the numerous empty medical beds around the room, mild anxiety slowly beginning to show in them on failing to recognize her surroundings. The holo-form's sensitive olfactory sensors picked up trace amounts of fear pheromones.

But then that mild anxiety was washed away along with the fear pheromones when they fell on the dark holo-form standing in the doorway. The girl managed a weak smile at him – a smile that was brimming with trust and thanks.

"_Caraid_." She said softly. Clumsily she reached out with her mind and touched it to his own in a bizarre psychic greeting. It was rather like the way a newly sparked cyber-kitten gently head-butted its progenitor upon recognizing them as part of the unit.

Galvatron smiled back: "How are you feeling?"

The girl attempted to rise to address him better only to wince on putting a tad too much pressure on her injured wing. It wasn't massively painful, as it was more like a dull ache in feel, so she endeavored to ignore it to the very best of her ability. She owed this rather grim looking but friendly man – erm, mech technically – her life. He deserved her respect, and her gratitude. She had heard rumors of the aliens, but to see one in person, even if it was just the holographic energy disguise of one, she saw as a massive privilege. Not many got to lay eyes on the secretive beings.

"Like I got kicked in the head by a mule, run over by a bus, and then dragged through the nearest ditch." admitted the girl. "But thanks to you, I'll live."

She winced a little as she massaged her head and bandaged arms. Her accent was much more pronounced than it had been the night before, and her voice itself was rather boyish in the way it sounded. She glanced behind her and frowned, feeling the wing that the Purifiers had damaged to keep her ground bound. Hell, it wasn't like she even knew how to use them yet anyways. She didn't really know how to use her psychic abilities either.

"By the way, we never got your name. Who are you?" Jane wondered.

"Adaryn. Adaryn Liath."

Both women were stunned to hear the holo-form chuckle loudly at this, softly saying how very fitting such a name was for her. When Jane asked him what he found so amusing and why he found her name fitting, he replied back enigmatically with two words that made the newly identified girl smile broadly at him:

"Grey Bird."

* * *

After a few more light-hearted questions directed at Adaryn and returning answers and jabs from the her and the two Avengers, the girl's exhaustion caught up with her once again. Her eyes grew heavy before soon closing, but they both knew she wasn't asleep quite yet. Jane rose and made to leave, checking and ensuring all of the medical equipment was functioning fine. Afterwards she dimmed some of the lights and headed for the doorway, whispering to the holo-form that they should both leave and give her some peace and quiet. Galvatron himself hesitated, debating whether or not to follow her lead.

The girl must've heard this, for her eyes fluttered open again. She mumbled, asking: "Can he stay? Please?"

Jane eyed the holo-form quizzically. Galvatron didn't like being confined to one spot for long periods of time per his restless nature, but the look he was giving her was very close to pleading. This stubborn mech was still thinking he owed Adaryn something, and would willingly stand guard for however long was needed. It was just as well perhaps. Someone needed to keep an eye on her and keep her company, and she _did_ trust him.

"I will stay with you." Galvatron reassured.

Her eyes shut once more as she mumbled a quiet thank you. At that the paramedic left the dimmed room to discuss her patient with the others, leaving the grim energy form of Galvatron to keep watch over Adaryn like an eerie but friendly sentinel.

* * *

Jane was accosted the moment she entered the Assembly Hall.

"So? How is she?" Cap wondered.

The paramedic took a position on one side of the table, electing to remain standing despite an empty chair being beside her. She leaned forward a bit, planting her hands on the table's top. Her expression was one of relief and even a bit of surprise, but her eyes showed both worry and aggravation.

Everyone understood what she was upset about without even having to ask. More than once she had recieved a badly injured young mutant in her hospital's special ward – injured either by the Purifiers, Mutant Response Division, or just hateful civilians. And it was a sad truth that not all of them survived their inflicted wounds.

"She'll live."

A chorus of relived sighs echoed around the chamber. Only the Hulk, per the usual order of things, remained effectively impassive at the news.

"What can you tell us about her?" asked Wonder Man. "Name? Age? Place of birth? Anything like that?"

Jane brought up the girl's profile along with her issued driver's licence before beginning:

"Her name is Adaryn Liath, eighteen years old. Born in Edinburgh, Scotland to unknown parents and raised in an orphanage within the city. Eventually moved across the pond and upstate to Concord, New Hampshire about a year ago, having been transferred here due to a job opening she'd been waiting for at the MIT Haystack Observatory – paid internship. Wings and psychic powers showed up just about a week ago. Fired because of them, and some of the meaner teens at the orphanage eventually chased her out, one teen going so far as to contact a Purifier group he had befriended. She's been running ever since; entered New York City limits about ten o'clock last night – half an hour before Galv found her."

Wasp shivered sympathetically, Ant-Man laying a steadying hand on her shoulder: "I'm almost afraid to ask, but how did her injuries come about?"

Jane's hands tensed. "Broken leg was the result of a bad fall from rushing down the stairs of an old building – took them too fast, stumbled mid-way and landed in a painful position. Her broken wing was Purifier caused when they first found her to keep her from flying off." She sighed, though it came out almost as a hiss. "Pointless and cruel. Poor thing didn't even know how to use them."

Thor growled softly, hand clenching around the handle of Mjolnir. Tiny arcs of electricity danced along the weapon's head. This sort of needless brutality was sickening, more along the lines of the brutish trolls and ogres of Vanaheim. These Purifiers needed to be taught a harsh lesson, and soon, before more innocent young mutants were harmed or killed.

"We've contacted the Xavier Institute and they said they would be more than happy to take her just as soon as she's recovered. Whether or not she goes is entirely up to her. Her powers, her choice." Tony said after a moment or two of tense silence. "Though honestly I agree with Simon. She'd be better off there with people who actually know how to train her powers, kids like her. Probably safer there too. They've got the advantage of numbers to protect her. But again, it's her choice to make."

* * *

'_They're talking about me, aren't they_?'

Galvatron jolted at hearing the girl's voice very clearly if somewhat faintly inside his mind. Odder still – to him at any rate, for he knew very little about the intricacies of telepathy or how it functioned – was that Adaryn herself was still asleep from all indications. Her chest was rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep and her body was completely still.

He stared at her. "How did...?"

'_Oh, you heard me? Oops! Um, he-he. That was intended just as a thought. I-I didn't mean to direct it at you. Sorry!_'

Wait. If she was technically communicating with him right now, albeit by sheer accident, did that mean if he thought something, she would hear it? She'd heard him speak aloud after all, and that was only after he'd thought the words. One had to think words before speaking them aloud – words were, in a sense, thoughts given a verbal outlet.

'_Wow. Somebody's a secret philosopher. Anyone ever accuse you of taking something too seriously?_'

He wasn't exactly pleased when he heard his counselor snicker: '_She's not wrong, you know. Some of Orion's analytical personality rubbed off on you, it seems._'

Pfft. Uh-huh. Some support _he_ was being right now! He had half a mind to ignore whatever he said for the rest of the day just for that. And teasing him while a guest was in his mind wasn't exactly polite, either. Frankly the all-powerful little voice in his helm should know better.

'_Normally such a comment would worry me, but I will endeavor to take in the good humor you meant it in_.'

He felt Adaryn's consciousness draw back on feeling the psychic weight of the deity's own, shying away as though it were a great bonfire, but at the same time she seemed to be drawn to it like a moth to flame. He could feel her tentatively prodding at it with her mind the same way a young child would poke at something to investigate it, seeing how it felt and whether or not it might react. He could almost envision her mind's eyes go round in wonder.

Primus chuckled at her shy psychic poking at him: '_Yes, hello there young lady._'

Again he felt her mind shy back, but this time it didn't draw back as far as before. And soon enough it had come right back to continue examining the secondary awareness locked inside the mech's mind. Fortunately the deity didn't seem to mind her continued poking and even went so far as to gently poke her back.

'_Whoa! Cool! I didn't know you could have two consciences in one mind! I mean, I sensed you before but I thought I was, like, delusional or something! You were the one who convinced me to trust Galvatron, right?'_

'_Indeed I was. Seeing as he had no identifying crest, your mistrust of him was natural, as was your rather clumsy scan of his conscious and subconscious mind. Ah, no offense intended, of course.'_

Adaryn laughed softly: '_None taken. I know I'm not very good at psychic scanning yet. Heck, I'm still learning the ropes of psychic conversations. I got no bloody idea what I'm doing, or how I'm even holding this mental little conference call together. I mean, this conversation we're having right now is completely accidental._'

Personally, Galvatron thought the girl was quite good at holding a telepathic conversation. While her voice was a bit on the faint side, no doubt thanks to her inexperience and possibly due to her being asleep as well, her words were clearly understandable to him, and the little nudges of her mind and nuances of emotion helped add color to her words. For someone with no experience backing her she was remarkably good at it.

He felt a little pulse of gratitude come from her. '_Aw, thanks, dude! That means a lot._'

Primus sent out a gentle wave of soporific reassurance to the girl: '_Come now, Adaryn. You need your rest. He will still be here when you wake.'_

'_Aw, c'mon! Five more minutes, please? I want to know more about you! And Galvatron! And your homeworld! And Cybertronians! Do you guys have telepathy? What about superpowers in general, you know _–_ like special powers or talents or something? How many light years away is Cybertron from Earth? Do you guys age? What's a spark and what does it do? How do you guys shape shift into _–'

'_Adaryn._'

The girl gave in on hearing his gently scolding, gently commanding tone of voice. She groaned softly: '_Fine..._'

With that resigned sounding word the deity sent out one final pulse that both disconnected her mind from Galvatron's and forced the girl's active and lively mind back to the slumbering state it had been in a few minutes earlier. In mere moments Adaryn was peacefully in the grip of deep sleep, the faint blips coming from the heart monitor and her own soft breathing the only sounds audible in the otherwise silent infirmary.

And still Galvatron refused to move from his post. But unlike before he was now smiling to himself. She was obviously fine in spite of her healing wounds, but he would keep watch over her like he had promised. At the very least he owed her that much in return for his clumsy mistake.

* * *

Adaryn remained asleep for the remainder of the day, only waking when evening began to fall. Her assigned protector noted that she didn't appear as physically dulled and beaten down as she had when she had first arrived within the Mansion's infirmary, and that she was able to move around with much less pain. Whether or not that was simply due to the expert care and painkillers she had been given or for some other reason he couldn't quite decide. He didn't know enough about mutants or their powers to make any decent guesses.

What stunned him the most was when she positioned herself on the edge of the medical bed, took her trench coat off, and revealed her wings. It wasn't that he was impressed with their dark, rich silvery-iron grey color, because he had, thanks to his sensors, been able to see them and their coloration, hence why he had said her name was fitting of her. No, what caught him off guard was that neither wing looked damaged in any way, shape, or form. Both wings appeared perfectly fine to him. A quick scan of her broken leg showed the main support strut had healed remarkably well, though there was still a hairline fracture detectable. But even that appeared to be sealing itself far faster than normal.

She caught his startled expression and looked behind her, causing her own dark aquamarine eyes to widen in disbelief. "Um...Okay. That's different."

The girl very hesitantly gave the previously broken wing a tentative, experimental flap. While it was still a bit on the sore side, that agonizing, sharp pain from the night before that signaled a fractured or broken bone had all but vanished. Was this another budding mutant power? Because if so, this was one she could definitely get used to. It wasn't invincibility but bloody hell was it pretty close in her mind.

"A healing factor?" Galvatron breathed. Did all mutants have some semblance of one, and was it simply more pronounced in certain individuals? That was slagging impressive if that were indeed the case here. Wings, telepathy, _and_ an improved healing rate? Humans as a rule appeared to be incredibly resilient and adaptable – mutants especially it seemed, and apparently they could possess more than one ability. And unlike most superhumans, mutants occurred naturally thanks to evolving genetic coding. That was the most fascinating part to him. Mutants were the result of natural, unaided evolutionary processes. Their powers were meant to help them survive better.

Her mouth formed into a broad grin: "Wicked!"

Growing bolder by the second, she tentatively put her injured, cast-wrapped leg on the floor alongside its twin and slowly increased the amount of weight on both limbs. For a brief moment she thought she might actually be able to stand and maybe even walk without the aid of a crutch to redistribute her own weight, but then a slight but noticeable pain shot up her leg. She winced expressively, easing up on the pressure she had been putting on it. Apparently not. Blast it.

Galvatron easily caught the flash of determination in her eyes, determination bordering on rebelliousness. This girl had a fire all her own inside her. It was no wonder now that she had survived her Purifier attackers. Her own stubbornness would never allow her to simply give up and die, nor would it allow her to accede to her wounds and let the Purifiers catch up to her. She had just kept on fighting with dogged determination. In a way this girl was very much like him – strong-willed and infinitely stubborn.

"I know how tempting it is to push yourself after an injury, believe me I do, but I would strongly advise against that."

Adaryn groaned faintly, but she took the hint in his words and relaxed into a more comfortable position on the edge of the bed. It wasn't like she could go anywhere with that bloody needle poking out of her arm anyways. Idly she began pulling and stroking some of the larger feathers comprising her wings, humming a light tune to herself.

Galvatron lifted a hand to one ear, opening a comm. link to the Avengers: "Everyone, our guest is awake. Come here so we can discuss what she wants to do."

* * *

**Author's Note: Adaryn is one of my OCs and I couldn't help but stick her in this story. She's mainly going to be a plot device, but she will make a few occasional appearances later on when Galv is at the Institute. **

***Found out my wisdom teeth are gonna get yanked tomorrow. Whoop dee freakin' do...I: My only consolation is that my new laptop is coming either tomorrow or the day after. :3 Inspiron 15 5000 that is so much better than the crummy old Toshiba I've got right now. Can't wait!**


	24. Chapter 24: Back to School

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 24**

* * *

It took a few minutes for the Avengers scattered throughout the Mansion to regroup back in the sub-level infirmary, but it happened eventually. Adaryn, plucky and tenacious as ever despite being confined to sitting on the edge of the medical bed, was quick to recognize many of the members of the famous team and give them the same friendly psychic head-butt she had given Galvatron, leading to more than a few grins and smiles. She seemed, aside from the still recovering knee and wings, which would no doubt heal in short order thanks to her healing factor, to be perfectly fine.

"Galv keep you company, kid?" Hawkeye asked, still grinning.

"Uh-huh. Swear the guy's a secret philosopher. He was goin' all Napoleon Hill on me, tryin' to figure out how I was telepathically communicating with him while I was still asleep. Also got to talk with the voice in his head when he kinda butted in. I liked that guy. He's nice. Dunno who he is, but he's nice. Also, really sassy and happily teased him with absolutely _no_ guilt. No guilt. Whatsoever." laughed the girl. "Not to embarrass him or anything, but my freaking God that was hysterical and weirdly cute, too. Your dynamic with whoever that is is the funniest, most adorable thing I've seen a while, dude. You're like bros or something with the way you banter at each other. That just made my day, or evening. I dunno what time it was when that happened."

Tony and Simon both grinned and snickered loudly. They would've paid good money to overhear that conversation. Adaryn had obviously enjoyed it immensely. It had seemed to help dispel the lingering uncertainty and fear that were the results of her Purifier pursuers. No doubt the deity had known his bantering with the mech would help, but such teasing they knew was never malicious in nature. His teasing was more friendly and intended to lighten one's mood, and clearly it had worked once again. Both Adaryn and Galvatron looked quite hearty and cheerful.

Having the deity acting as a sort of ambient team member was proving to be insanely useful.

"So."

Just that one word from Captain Rogers made everyone remember why they were all down there in the first place. Adaryn was the focus of this gathering. They were all there to decide what exactly was going to happen to her. While Wonder Man had put it rather bluntly earlier, he had made a valid argument. The Avengers weren't exactly the Xavier Institute. It was best she was trained in her budding powers by fellow mutants who she could get along with, plus there was the added advantage of numbers. Xavier's school had hundreds of budding and experienced mutants as students. The Avengers on the hand were numbered less than a dozen, and none of them were in possession of the mutant "X" gene.

The only reason she had come to their headquarters in the first place and not that of the X-Men was simply due to proximity. If she'd been in better physical shape she no doubt would've headed straight there. But as it had been, her condition had not allowed her to. She had just gone for the closest hero base out of sheer desperation and exhaustion. She hadn't really had a choice in the matter. It had either been head for the Avengers or be killed in the streets.

Adaryn eyed the soldier with a knowing look in her rich aquamarine eyes. For a moment it seemed like they were just staring at each other, but a slight, silent nod of his head every so often hinted that a conversation was taking place in their minds. Thanks to the transmission of raw thought and information the conversation was brief and to the point, finishing quite quickly. Both shared one final glance at one another before the psychic link was cut off.

"Man I wish I could do that." admitted Simon, though it sounded like the comment was meant more an idle note intended for himself rather than a conversation starter. To be able to transfer raw data between minds was an incredible ability to possess. No words needed to be spoken for the message to be gotten. Thoughts were shared between consciences in their purest state, so no clarification was ever needed. Telepaths were the perfect interrogators, able to reach into the minds of others and single out the information they were looking for, but most of the time they used the ability to communicate better, faster, than mere speech would ever allow.

But there was one little thing that bothered him about Adaryn: her wings. Technically speaking they were an impossibility. Her healing ability was also a point of confusion.

Telepaths as a rule always tended to have some form of power inhibitor that dampened their powers, ensuring they did not become psychically omnipotent. Charles Xavier was paralyzed from the waste down. Jean Grey had to maintain emotional stability or risk the volatile Phoenix Force escaping, scalding and destroying everything in a five mile radius of her. Emma Frost had her diamond form which, while making her effectively invulnerable to harm, prevented the use of her telepathy. Psylocke had had her mind transferred into the body of a female Hand ninja years ago, and while it gave her heightened physical prowess, it was not the body she was used to.

In short, her wings could not be there. Their presence seemed to break that rule. Simon's mind was a bit similar to Tony's, and it did not like this contradictory data at all. Telepaths always seemed to have some form of handicap. Adaryn didn't have any. In fact, she had enhancers, things that would help her rather than hinder her. Why was that? Was there something about her that she was keeping from them, or was it something she herself wasn't aware of?

He'd heard stories of groups like the MRD and Weapon X capturing mutant children and experimenting on them...and then having their memories wiped before being released and monitored. Was she maybe one of them? She had been orphaned, after all. No one knew who her parents were, not even she did. The possibility _was_ there.

Granted, there was one significant issue with this theory, and that was the lack of any sort of tracker or locator bug or even a control chip on or in her body. Weapon X was renowned for doing this to weaponized mutants as a means of keeping tabs on them or, in extreme cases like that of Wolverine, wirelessly controlling them to ensure no rebellion. Jane had found nothing of the sort.

This girl was an enigma, he'd say that much about her.

Wasp drew neared the medical bed then, her attention focused on the girl's tattered clothes and trench coat. "If you want I could patch these up for you. Hate to see good quality fabric shredded like that."

Adaryn grinned at her, handing her the trench coat: "Knock yourself out, Ms. Van Dyne. My jeans came ripped, you know. Bought 'em like that, and I like 'em like that. But, uh, if it's all the same to you, I'll, uh, let you patch my shirt up later. 'Cause, you know...bunch a guys in the room..."

Hawkeye snorted, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his massive smirk. This kid. This kid was something else. She would definitely give the Xavier Institute some life when she got there. Because he knew enough about social interactions and telepathic communications to know that the soldier and the girl had come to the decision that she would be going there. Her expression had been expectant, eager, while the soldier's had been encouraging and knowledgeable. Obviously Adaryn had known of the school and was quite happy to go, and Captain Rogers had been happy to supply information about it and some of the students.

"How's that leg of yours?" Tony wondered.

She put the leg back down on the ground and steadily increased the pressure. But like before she eventually winced when the pressure made a dull pain shoot up her leg. It wasn't as bad as before though. It was much duller than it had been the last time.

"Eh, couple more hours and I think it'll be good." hazarded the girl.

Cap and Jane nodded in unison, the former politely saying: "You're welcome to stay however long you need to, Ms. Liath. We're not about to send you off to the Institute while you're still recovering. We'd get an angry mouthful from Logan if we so much as considered such of course of action. That wouldn't be the decent thing to do here."

The girl smiled at him, nodding and voicing her thanks.

"In the meantime though, seeing as you're awake, what do you think about having a little chat with one of the teachers or students at the Institute? Give you a chance to meet some of them before you head over."

Again she nodded, her smile remaining as she answered: "Sure. Always wanted to see the Assembly Hall. Could...someone get the needle outta my arm first?"

* * *

"Hey! There's the little celebrity!"

A good number of the X-Men had answered the Avengers' call to their headquarters, and now the group of mutants – consisting of Shadowcat, Rogue, Wolverine, Angel, Ice-Man, and Nightcrawler – were all huddled around someone's computer-mounted webcam (from the lab in the background everyone made the accurate guess this webcam was Beast's) and grinning broadly at the young mutant girl and the small number of Avengers at her side, as the remaining members were busy tracking down her Purifier hunters.

This remark itself had come from Wolverine, currently out of his black and yellow uniform and in civilian clothes, and he was giving a toothy, strangely charming grin at her. They all took this in the spirit it was meant and not as a seeming advance – trying his best to look less intimidating and put her at ease, though there was an emphasis on the trying part. Logan was naturally intimidating. It wasn't something he could really help.

Adaryn shied back at bit from the sight of so many strange faces, but she did manage after a moment's hesitation a rather awkward wave at them. She did seem to take comfort from the presence of Galvatron and Jane Foster at her immediate right and left. Encouragingly, she didn't seem to be completely unnerved by Kurt's appearance as most were wont to. Rather, she seemed fascinated by it. His blue, slightly furry body and pointed, elf-like ears were bizarre, and his yellow eyes and prehensile tail were even more so. But they weren't scary by any means. He looked a bit like a fuzzy elf, honestly.

Bobbie smiled and waved back: "Glad to see you're okay! You really gave Ms. Foster a heart attack the other night!"

At that her shyness evaporated. She liked this teen and his friendly, airy demeanor. "Thank Mr. Black Wings over here. I owe him my life. If he hadn't shown up when he did..."

"Heh, yeah. That's Galv for ya." Wolverine chuckled. "That mech's got the timing of the devil. Also protective like nobody's business. But you probably already figured that little trait out, eh?"

Adaryn nodded, her smile returning as she glanced up at the taller holo-form beside her. It was the same trusting smile she had given him when he had encountered her on the streets. Protective he indeed was. He had refused to leave her bedside when she had been in the infirmary, and he had scared off her Purifier attackers before that with one well timed (if somewhat over-powerful) stomp and snarl. She didn't hold that little mishap against him.

"Aw. I think she's adorable! A sweetheart, too!" Rogue beamed in her rich, Southern-accented voice. "Look at that smile! So cute!"

"Rogue, you're starting to sound like Wasp." Angel teased.

"Oh, and what if I were to 'borrow' your wings for a bit. Would you still be saying that? Hmm?"

Angel fell abruptly silent, though he didn't appear unnerved or alarmed. He obviously just judged it better to shut his mouth and let Rogue fawn over the girl. Women were like that, and Rogue really was a decent young lady despite her rough start and frankly dangerous mimicking ability. She had a good sense of hospitality and would always try to make newcomers to the Institute feel at home, and there was no doubt in his mind she would do the same for Adaryn. An odd name, but it was certainly pretty he had to admit.

Adaryn herself covered her mouth to hide her smile and muffle her snickers. So far all of these "X-Men" seemed just as nice and friendly as the Avengers had been to her, and a good number of them were round about her age, not counting Wolverine of course. Despite his intimidating appearance and sharpened canine teeth, she felt he was just as friendly as the others, if maybe a bit on the rough side. She had the odd sense of an untamed beast being trapped inside him, only rarely permitted out.

"So you're coming, right?" asked Bobbie eagerly, eyes alight. He was practically bouncing with anticipation.

The girl nodded, replying: "Yeah. Seems like the best option for me. I mean, I like the Avengers, don't get me wrong, but I wouldn't exactly fit in here. And they've got enough on their plates without worrying about Purifiers or the MRD knocking down their doors for harboring me."

Shadowcat, Ice-Man, Rogue, and Nightcrawler all cried: "Great!"

"You guys better take good care of her." Jane warned lightly, eyeing them sternly. "Or you'll be hearing from me."

Logan offered another one of his toothy smiles and said there was no need to worry about that. They'd all take good care of the kid and make sure her abilities were trained up properly, and make sure the MRD and the Purifiers never got their hands on her. She was one of them, after all. In a sense she was already family due to her genetics. Their doors were always open to a mutant in need. They had even taken in a small number of rookie Brotherhood mutants when they'd grown disillusioned with them.

Then the question arose on how to get her to the Institute. The X-Men offered to come and pick her up in the Blackbird or have Logan drive over on his motorcycle and get her over there that way. The Avengers said they could either get the Quinjet to ferry her there or perhaps even Galvatron himself could fly her there himself, seeing as the girl trusted him already.

"Hey, speakin' of which. Maybe Galvatron should come on over and give us a hand for a bit. You guys have hogged him enough." said Rogue. "What do you say, big guy? Up for some action with the X-Men?"

Galvatron considered this for a moment before replying that he saw no issue with this course of action. He had been debating paying the X-Men a visit for some time, ever since his battle with Nightmare. He had been hoping that one of the telepaths there could teach him to be a bit better at mind-based combat in case he were to encounter a villain with psychic powers. Granted he wasn't a telepath himself, but maybe they could teach him to ward off some types of mental attacks with certain techniques that frankly anyone with a decent helm on their shoulders could accomplish.

"I'm sure Chuck or Jean would be happy to help." replied Wolverine. "So, when are you two gonna swing by?"

"In a few hours. Adaryn's leg is almost healed, but not quite. Not that she would care one way or another. She has the spark of a rebel inside her. I had to stop her from putting too much strain on her leg earlier. She's...disturbingly like me to be honest."

At that Wolverine laughed: "Oh, we're gonna get along just fine then! I'll have Kitty set up a room for her with the other girls, and we'll make sure the Blackbird's launch bay is set up to fit a second jet. Don't worry, you'll fit. Lots of room down there. See you two in a bit!"

All of the X-Men bade them farewell with waves and goodbyes and eager statements of seeing them shortly. Once certain the farewells were said and done, Logan leaned forward and then, after a brief pause showing him fiddling with the webcam's controls, the screen flickered and went blankly black.

* * *

The prerequisite few hours passed without incident. Adaryn was able to experiment more with her budding telepathic abilities on some of the Avengers, and Galvatron even gave her a few simple exercises to help build up the muscles in her developing wings. She seemed happy that she would be a bit ahead of the game when she got to the Institute. Of course, it would still take numerous lessons and exercises before she could take to the skies like he and Angel could, but a start, no matter how small, was still a start.

When the time came for both to make their departures, every single Avenger crowded down in the sub-level launch bay to wish them well. Even the normally stoic Hulk seemed put out that the giant mech was leaving them for a time. However, it was no surprise when Wasp flew over to the vehicle and offered a tiny hug to the aircraft's external plating, and she was pleased to hear his engine faintly purr in response.

Ant-Man took this in good spirits. Jan cared about him like a mother, but she still cared about him. This was proved without a doubt when she flitted back over to him, landed on his shoulders, and planted a cute little peck on his cheeks. In spite of his efforts, he blushed abashedly.

Oh, she'd miss him. They all would. But it's not like he was going away. He'd still be able to contact them. He had their communication frequency.

"See ya, pal." Hawkeye waved.

"Don't cause them any trouble, you hear?" Cap warned playfully, pointing a teasingly accusational finger at him.

They were all gladdened to hear the aircraft laugh light-heartedly. He had certainly improved since his first day on their planet. He had arrived uncertain and moody and even a bit shy around those outside the team. Now he was open and emotionally lighter, and to top it off – ridiculously snarky. Galvatron would keep the entire Institute on its toes while he was there. It was something he was good at.

There was a low rumble from the aircraft's engine that soon evolved into a thundering roar as his thrusters kicked into high gear. The launch pad began to rise until it came to a smooth stop facing the exit tunnel that spilled out into the river. Inside his cockpit, Adaryn tensed, but out of anticipation rather than fright. She hadn't been aware the last time she'd ridden inside the friendly alien shape-shifter, having been unconscious, so she wanted to savor this ride.

"Hold tight." Galvatron advised.

Adaryn nodded eagerly, doing as told. She was grinning like an utter maniac. This girl really was like him in more ways than one.

Accompanied by the shouted best wishes, farewells, and see-you-later's was the near-deafening sound of the aircraft blasting into the exit tunnel. A bright flash of dark lavender coming from his thrusters was the last thing the Avengers saw of their friend. After a few minutes the noise faded into oblivion, replaced by the gentle rushing of water beneath the walkways.

Among the Avengers was a single, shared thought:

'_Stay safe, Galv._'

* * *

"Wooo!"

Hearing the mutant girl shriek in delight was on par with hearing Spider-Man laugh. Both sounds carried a spark-lifting effect that soon had him laughing along with her, performing dives and climbs and other aerial acrobatics as he raced through the skies above the city, headed in the direction of the Institute. The building itself could just be made out in the distance, but he felt no rush to get there immediately. The skies were clear and he was detecting no trouble in the streets below. He might as well just enjoy himself as he was headed to his destination.

'_Indeed. Enjoy life. Indulge in the simple pleasures that make it worth living._' Primus hummed in his mind, an evident smile in his voice.

Galvatron then felt an increased warmth in his spark. Unlike the times before, he took notice of it, for he knew now what it was. Each little revelation he made, each little discovery of self, each little admittance brought him closer and closer to the Allspark. He let his engine purr faintly at the thought, at the concept of not being isolated after his spark went out. It appealed to him.

Adaryn felt the subtle thrumming and smiled, placing a hand on the alien control panel in front of her. It didn't take a telepath to know that he was pleased about something. She could just...sense it in her bones. The air inside the cockpit was suffused with a comforting warmth. For some reason it made her think of sipping a mug of hot chocolate on a cold winter's evening, wrapped in a fuzzy fleece blanket. That was what it felt like to her, this warmth – cozy, gentle, soft, welcoming. But was it coming from him or from the other presence? Hell, was it coming from _both_ of them?

Eventually this sense faded somewhat as the alien's flight path took him closer to the Institute. Oh, it was still there, but it wasn't as openly noticeable. It was more...ambient now, no longer direct. It still made her feel cozy and relaxed though. She pulled her newly-stitched trench coat tighter around her body, snuggling into the seat. Another faint purr from the alien told her that he was fine with this. Obviously nothing was about to dim this guy's mood.

She felt the aircraft begin to lower in altitude and then perform a wide banking turn. Then the spoke into what she assumed was an open comm. channel or something like that:

"X-Men, this is Galvatron requesting permission to land, over."

[Ha! There you are!] Wolverine's growling voice exclaimed. [Head for the basketball court. Hangar's underneath. Scott's already down there with Chuck and Sooraya and a few others. They'll meet you there. I will, too.]

"Understood, Logan. Heading there now."

"Who's Sooraya?" Adaryn wondered, head tilting to the side by a few degrees. The name was unusual to her – it sounded Middle-Eastern. Pakistani, maybe? Iraqi? Something along those lines?

"I have no idea, but we'll both find out soon enough, won't we? We're in this together it would seem."

Adaryn smiled, nodding: "Yeah. We are. So come on already! Land! Let's get this party started!" There was a fierce, determined gleam in her dark aquamarine eyes.

Galvatron chuckled softly at her fiery determination and courage. She would give the X-Men a run for their money in whatever classes she would end up enrolling in. Intelligence, drive, and a sharp tongue that wasn't afraid to speak were things that he respected and valued. And of course he would be there to offer assistance to not just her, but to every mutant in the Institute. He wasn't exactly a student per say, but he would be learning a few things nonetheless.

"Yes, ma'am!"

He banked around once more, lowering further and heading for the basketball court like Logan had told him to. There was a grinding noise coupled with a low droning klaxon warning any players to clear the area, and then the court began to split down the middle to reveal a spacious underground hangar that was already occupied by a sleek black jet and a helicopter. It wasn't as massive as the Avengers' launch bay hangar, but it was certainly large, and the two vehicles were well-kept and quite stylish, especially the Blackbird.

Off to one side was a sprinkling of X-Men. Most he recognized, but one hooded female figure he didn't. She wore a traditional Khimar veil and a full body Abaya robe. He took a guess that this was Sooraya. What her field name was he didn't know, though he would no doubt be enlightened to the fact momentarily.

He switched on his braking panels and flared his lower thrusters, gently lowering down until he touched ground. Once on solid ground he let his passenger out and reverted out of his vehicle form, towering over the smaller forms of the X-Men, but the huge grins on their faces showed they were glad to see him.

"Hello, Galvatron." Professor Xavier greeted, smiling. "Welcome to Xavier Institute."


	25. Chapter 25: Meet the X-Men!

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 25**

* * *

Adaryn, suddenly hesitant and shy, lurked by the mech's heel struts with wide, apprehensive dark aquamarine eyes that scanned the small massing of mutants that still kept off to one side of the hangar. She knew a lot of them, as she had spoken with them not even three hours previously, but having so many of them all down here was a bit intimidating. These people were professional heroes who fought to bring social justice to mutants all while combating anti-mutant racism and fighting criminal mutants such as the Brotherhood. Honestly, she was star-struck _and_ frightened at the same time.

However, a very light nudge from Galvatron convinced her to cowgirl up and head over to them. In minutes her shyness evaporated and she was chatting animatedly with Rogue, Kitty, and Angel like she'd known them her whole life. Sooraya watched the four like a silent but gentle wraith while the remaining men joined in the conversation, only occasionally speaking a word or two. Her voice was rich and low, almost wispy sounding in pronunciation, though her accent wasn't very noticeable which was a bit of a surprise. Her English was quite good, with only a slight sing-song intonation betraying that English wasn't her first language.

The mech took amused note that Forge kept stealing fascinated glances over in his direction, an almost manic glitter in his eyes. Wolverine kept a firm hand on the younger mutant's shoulders to keep him from darting off and giving their other new guest a hard time. Clearly the man had a bit of an obsession when it came to technology, and his ability to mentally manipulate them wasn't exactly serving to lessen it.

Cyclops eyed the other mutant teasingly through his red quartz glasses: "Forge, stay!" His tone was similar to the one a dog owner would use on a disobedient canine, somewhat commanding yet with a a faint undercurrent of gentle autocracy. It wasn't truly harsh, but it would get the message across.

Forge moaned in protest "Fine!" but he obeyed in the end. Nonetheless he kept stealing glances over at the giant grey and black mech, the manic glitter in his eyes still there. Galvatron smirked back at him, permitting a little hint of sympathy to show in his red optics. Being told not to pester the giant sentient mechanoid from outer space was veritable torture to the man.

And off to one side was Professor Xavier himself, a small smile on his lips as he watched his students interact with the new girl. She was still a bit on the shy side, but that was to be expected. Adaryn, while she may have conversed with them earlier, didn't actually know these people, and reaching into their minds to gather information on them was something she wasn't willing to do. No doubt she saw it as rude or invasive. That was a good sign to him. It meant she held reservations about her powers already, and was not likely to abuse them for personal gain. Those were the makings of a fine X-Man.

"Why don't we head up to the foyer and show her around the place? Give the grown-ups some time to talk, you know?" Cyclops suggested, glancing first at his fellow mutants and then over at the newly arrived form of Galvatron before finally alighting back again on his friends. From those looks on the adults' faces it was pretty plain they wanted to discuss something, and having a bunch of teens and young adults in the room might offer one too many distractions.

"Great idea!" agreed Nightcrawler eagerly, tail a-swish and yellow eyes alight. "I will take her up! Meet you guys there! Laters!"

Adaryn let out a little startled squeak when the bizarre looking mutant teleporter grabbed her arm, vanishing in a puff of sulfurous smelling blue smoke before the sound was even half-way out of her mouth, resulting in more than a few snickers and giggles from those gathered. Wolverine merely shook his head, muttering something to himself about kids and their damn fool ways.

Warren rolled his eyes smilingly. "Not one for subtlety are you, Kurt?"

"We _are_ talkin' about the guy with the blue fur, pointed ears, and a tail." Rogue pointed out in her rich Southern drawl, hand on her hip as she leaned casually to one side.

"Touche."

Cyclops put a friendly arm around Sooraya's shoulders, jerking his head in the direction of the elevator: "Come on, guys. Let's go make sure Kurt hasn't scared her off already."

All of the young mutants quickly vanished into the elevator, snickering and giggling amongst themselves as the doors closed. Kurt's playful, friendly behavior around newcomers was always amusing to them, even to the slightly-too-serious Cyclops, as Nightcrawler knew his appearance was rather alarming to some, so he always tried to put them at ease with a quip and a light-hearted comment. Sometimes he would even show off his ability to them as a harmless demonstration, to let the newcomer know they weren't an oddball or a freak. In Kurt's mind, no one could be freakier than he was.

Whether or not such a tactic had worked this time around remained to be seen. Not all of his introductions went smoothly. It was an unfortunate truth that some people just found him too weird.

They could only hope this one had gone smoothly.

* * *

As soon as the group was gone the remaining two adult mutants drew towards their long-term guest.

The Professor tilted his head to one side, cocking a curious eyebrow at him and smiling: "So? What do you think of them?"

Galvatron gazed at the spot where the elevator and its young cargo had risen to the upper stories of the building, red optics thoughtful as he recalled how each of the youngling mutants had behaved and interacted with each other and the new girl. The teens had all behaved like normal teens would. They were teasing. They were playful. They were a little bit finicky and snappy, too, but teenagers were like that, even Cybertronian ones. It was in their nature to harmlessly feud with others around their age. Such feuding was unavoidable, and most of it was done all in good fun. Luckily adults were here to step in if things got too heated.

But in spite of that they didn't exactly act rebellious. In fact, many if not all of them seemed quite obedient whenever the Professor or one of the instructors was involved. Evidently all of the X-Men trusted him implicitly in the same manner students would trust a good teacher. Wolverine was the only one who acted disobedient, but he was an adult and was also clearly on close terms with the telepath, seeming to stand as a kind of lieutenant for him and a rough-edged father figure to the younglings. The currently not present Storm was another one of the instructors according to the Avengers, along with Beast.

He reached his conclusion after a few more moments of musing. All in all they seemed like a decent bunch to him. And besides, kids would be kids after all. There wasn't much one could do about that.

"Good kids. You taught them well, Scott especially."

"I'm glad you think that. Mr. Summers was one of the first to enroll here at my school. His ability is unfortunately unstable, which is why he requires those glasses and his visor to see. If he opens his eyes without them the results are...quite destructive to put it mildly. But over the years here he has learned to better control the power he holds. That is what my school teaches – control."

The mech nodded: "Right. I saw what he was capable of on Cybertron. Quite the strategist with that ability of his. You taught him that, I suppose?"

"I did little next to advise and encourage him whenever he was in doubt over something. Scott is a bright young man, very intelligent. He just needed the occasional nudge to get going."

'_Remind you of someone?_'

Galvatron rolled his optics with a faint snort. He was nothing like Cyclops, though he would begrudgingly admit that Primus and Professor Xavier shared more than a few personality traits, not to mention telepathy. That was as much as he would admit, however. He wouldn't go any farther than, at least not yet. He didn't yet know enough about the telepath to make an accurate comparison between them. Perhaps at a later date when he knew a little more, maybe then he'd go a bit farther comparatively. For now, though, he would gather more information through observation and interaction with the man.

He was rather surprised to hear the telepath chuckle lightly to himself. "Ah, yes. I almost forgot that you had a 'voice' in your mind. Captain Rogers informed me of that when his team contacted us about your rescue of Ms. Liath. I can assume that he's been helpful to you during your...transition?"

At that the mech sighed, chuckling himself after a short pause: "Let me put it this way. Some days I value his presence, and other days I swear his only object is to drive me up a wall. But on the whole, yes. He's been very helpful. There are some days I honestly don't know what I would do without him there to assist me."

Wolverine shook his head again, but he was grinning now. If that mech walked into a psych ward the doctors would go bonkers over him. Regardless, Galvatron seemed to be taking this 'secondary voice' well. From the sounds of it he even went so far as to bark or banter back with the friendly deity. A sass war between a former gladiator and a god. Oh, man. He'd pay top dollar to overhear that. Heh. So would some of the more prank oriented X-Men.

"Come on now, Logan. Don't encourage him." Professor Xavier scolded, eyes twinkling.

'_Oh, but who said anything about encouraging? Who is to say something like that has not already taken place, hmm? And who is to say I am not debating instigating such a thing in the near future?_'

Stop. Just stop right there. He wasn't to go _any further_ with that line of thought. If he did he'd be sorry.

'_Well, someone is a bit a spoilsport today, aren't we?_'

And someone, naming no names, was having far too much fun at his expense today. He had half a mind to get Optimus to chew him out. He knew he could.

'_...Did you just threaten to tattle on me? Really now? My, my, that's a bit childish, don't you think?_'

Oh, sure it was a bit childish. He admitted that freely, without any guilt or shame. But it would totally be worth it, wouldn't it – having his faithful disciple utterly chew him out over his own rather childish behavior towards the one mech he was supposed to be helping directly through the Matrix. That would be glorious. There had to be a way to record such a happening, surely?

'_You're not joking, are you?_' Galvatron could also envision the deity taking a wary step back, golden optics playfully mistrusting.

Mentally he grinned maniacally. No. No he wasn't. He was being deadly serious.

'_...I am torn between genuine alarm and absurd quantities of amusement._'

Professor Xavier smiled, pressing two fingers to his temples and slowly shaking his head in amusement while poor Logan looked confused as to what he found funny. He felt a little pang of pity the burly man couldn't overhear their playful badinage, and so performed a simple link up to enable him to hear the lingering echoes of the bantering. Once he understood, Logan cracked a toothy grin and howled in laughter.

Having the mech here would decidedly bring a unique set of challenges and advantages to the table, not to mention more life and energy to the Institute as a whole. A good number of the younger mutants like Bobbie and Jubilee would certainly enjoy the sarcastically witty alien's presence, no doubt. He would have to keep Forge from pestering him too much while he was there however, but that was an easy hurdle to overcome. As time passed his infantile excitement over the Cybertronian's presence would die down to a more manageable level.

At least, he sincerely hoped it would. One could never really tell with Forge. He would keep a close eye on him to ensure the tech-savvy young mutant didn't harass him too badly or decide to turn him into a guinea pig. Hopefully he had the sense and respect not to filch any parts from him. Stark had said his internal components were in a pitiable condition. Forge might be able to repair them partially, but it was, regardless, a bit of a long shot – even for his abilities.

The telepath brought himself out of his amiable thoughts with a slight effort. He looked up at the mechanical alien towering over him: "Well then. Seeing as you hold an interest in mutants now, would you care to meet more of them?"

"Chuck, not to be statin' the obvious or anythin', but how are you proposin' to get flyboy here into an elevator designed for humans? I mean, wouldn't it be better to just get all the kids out in the game field or the courtyard? More convenient for 'im and all."

Xavier smiled enigmatically: "Oh, but where would be the fun in that?"

* * *

"So is it a pain to shower with all that fur of yours?"

"Eh, it is not so bad. My fur is not very thick."

"Hm. He's the lucky one. I've got fur as thick as a border collie's. But hey, what can one do aside from adapt? Least it makes hiking in colder climates easier."

Galvatron, Wolverine, and Professor Xavier came upon first the sound of laughter and a very heart-warming sight in the main foyer of the Institute. Lounging around on a rectangle of sofas and chairs were the X-Men and Adaryn, discussing their powers and abilities with her, happily encouraging questions and showing off their particular talents if asked to. All were grinning, smiling, and laughing light-heartedly as they conversed and demonstrated.

Scott and Jean, being the oldest students and recent graduates, were proving to be the knowledge reserves of the group. Bobbie, Kitty, Jubilee, Jamie, and Kurt were the energy, quipping and joking among each other, poking fun at their friends. Beast and Storm were keeping a parental eye to ensure these live demonstrations didn't get too out of hand. The two adults even joined in the conversation if they felt it was needed, the former being much more outgoing and gregarious in his comments while the latter was more toned down and calm but nonetheless friendly.

It was a very endearing sight. The girl had finally found people like her, a place where she belonged and would be accepted for who she was, not what she looked like or what she could do.

The massing of mutants heard their approach, turned to face them, and their expressions lit up in delight. Their eyes first fell on the two arriving senior mutants and then they fell on the newcomer with the black wings and armor. Despite his red eyes and rather grim appearance they all sensed he was friendly. One X-Man in particular recognized him in a flash – Angel.

"Galv!"

The holo-form grinned broadly as the winged mutant rushed towards him, accepting the offered friendly embrace. "Warren. Good to see you again."

"Heh. 'Bout time you showed up. We were beginning to wonder if you'd decided to stay with the Avengers and not rotate out or somethin'." joked Rogue.

"Rogue, I'm a mech of my word, and need I remind you that these rotations are meant to help me familiarize myself with the squadrons and their enemies. For your information, the Avengers let me go without any arguments. They know I'm restless by nature, and I only get more so if my mind thinks I'm getting too comfortable."

Jamie, Bobbie, Kurt, and Kitty all chuckled and giggled at that statement. It looked like he and Mr. Logan shared some similarities. They would get along just fine it seemed. Both were restless wanderers. Whether or not that was a _good_ thing...they would leave that question unanswered for now.

Adaryn was the next to go and hug the holo-form, dark aquamarine eyes shinning happily as she did so. With a smile and a laugh he returned to the mutant assembly gathered on the sofas and chairs, bouncing up on the back of one and perching there like an overgrown hawk, grey wings tucked against her back. A gleeful smile appeared to be permanently plastered on her lips.

_Bark! Bark!_

Something brown and furry and lupine in appearance darted between the holo-forms legs. For all intents and purposes it looked to be a small, brownish wolf, but then, as he watched, the little canine began to shift in appearance, standing half upright on its hind legs. Brown fur receded to make way for tanned skin covered in casual civilian clothing, clawed paws morphed into human hands and bare feet, normal ears took the place of their pointed counterparts.

In a few moments there stood in place of the wolf a young pre-teen girl with short auburn hair held up in pig tail buns, eyes as green as emeralds, her face vaguely resembling that of her canine form – long and narrow, but also quite impish and playful.

"Rahne! There you are!" cried Jamie eagerly, jumping up to greet her. "Check out the new guys! Awesome, right?!"

"I thought I smelled strangers on the grounds." admitted Rahne lightly. She then turned to face Galvatron, offering a charming smile to him. "Hiya!"

Galvatron greeted her back like a gentleman, nodding and offering a casual salute: "Hello Ms. Rahne."

Rahne giggled hysterically, holding a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the laughter threatening to break out. "I like you. You're funny!"

Professor Xavier smiled and rolled his wheelchair closer to the group, though the smile seemed a bit sad. A few mutants standing around the fringes politely stood aside to give him some space. But rather than speak he simply elected to continue observing. It was little moments like this that made him hopeful and despairing in equal measure – hopeful that their struggle was not in vain, but despairing, too, that people were so against the existence of mutants.

Why couldn't people see that mutant children, teens, and adults were no different than regular people? His X-Men were constantly fighting an uphill battle just to be accepted into society, to be treated normally – a task only made more difficult thanks to mutants with criminal leanings like the Brotherhood.

'_Then you are __lucky that you have Galvatron with you now, Professor. He is quite the activist. Advocate, too. He would happily speak and act if it meant bettering the lives of mutants all over the world._'

Hearing the gentle voice of Cybertron in his mind made some of the sadness in his smile fade. His tone, playful and teasing earlier, was now softer and a little bit sterner. But there was an undercurrent of compassion readily detectable, akin to that of Optimus's own voice. Plainly he had seen social prejudice before, had attempted to stop it, but his voice had fallen on deaf ears without a Prime to help speak for him. One had been found and named, but too late. But why did he sound ever so slightly...hesitant?

'_Professor, the last time I attempted to remove social inequality and prejudice among my creations, a war broke out. I would rather that not happen here. They have suffered through enough trials as it is. A civil war among human and mutant would only result in tragedy and needless bloodshed._'

'_I understand your concern. This time you have a speaker, though. It will not come to that. I promise. That is the X-Men's purpose _–_ to prevent such an eventuality from happening. They are to keep the peace by providing an example of what good mutants can accomplish with their talents._'

Jean's voice broke in: '_The Professor's right. You needn't worry yourself silly on our behalf, sir. We'll make sure that never happens. We're not asking you to fight our battles. Just make sure Unicron doesn't come in and make our lives just that much harder._'

Both telepaths were relieved to hear a soft chuckle:

'_Very well then, Ms. Grey. I will ensure my brother does not cause any trouble for you or your allies. Well, I will try my best anyway. Deal?_'

'_Deal. Thank you, sir._'

'_Oh, quit calling me "sir". Honestly, do I sound like a general to you?_'

Jean broke out laughing while the Professor's smile broadened. Leave it to the friendly deity to lighten a somber moment with a joke or humorous comment. Bringing light and laughter seemed to be his purpose, not to mention helpful meddling when the need arose. Compared to other cosmic beings like the mysterious Watchers and elusive Celestials, he was surprisingly very active, always willing to listen to someone's grievances or assist them in whatever capacity he could. Unusual, but in any event fortunate.

"Come on then! Let's show these guys around!" Bobbie exclaimed suddenly, interrupting the telepathic conversation like a tossed flare. He jumped up from his seat excitedly, bouncing on his heels like an eager puppy.

"Last one to the Danger Room has to fix it up after Logan uses it!" Berserker challenged playfully.

With shrieks, laughs, and cries of challenge and merriment, the massing of young mutants darted off en masse down the main hallway, Nightcrawler giving a taunting call of "Suckers!" before vanishing in a puff of sulfurous smelling blue smoke. Storm pressed a long-enduring hand to her forehead while Beast smiled, shaking his head.

"_There are but very few men clever enough to know all the mischief they do._" quoted the blue-furred, ape-like mutant sagely, a twinkle in his eyes.

Galvatron smiled at this apt phrase. "Well said, Mr. McCoy. Well said."

Logan emitted a tired, aggravated, but nonetheless amused sigh. "Best make sure they don't break somethin' in there. C'mon, flyboy. Let's go find the kids. Keep and eye on things up here, would you, Chuck?"

"Of course. Take Storm with you if you feel you need to, and if they prove too rambunctious for you, do not hesitate to ask Scott, Jean, or I for assistance."

"Eh, they aren't that bad. Kids'll be kids." Logan shrugged nonchalantly, a smile ghosting in and out of existence briefly. Then the man turned on his heels and started off down the same hallway the kids had disappeared down, not bothering to run. Instead he kept at a brisk but leisurely stroll, eyes flicking back to check that the holo-form was following in his stead.

He was unsurprised to find he was. A rare, genuine, broad smile formed, and it didn't vanish when the holo-form noticed it. Galvatron grinned back at him, matching him stride for stride.

Oh, yes. This alien was in for quite the entertaining stay. He'd be kept nice and busy with the kids. No way would he get bored here. Those kids would keep him occupied morning, noon, and night with their antics and energy. He would either enjoy them and join in such playfulness or slowly be driven mad by it. Either way, there was no reason for the mech to be bored or idle here. There was always something to do, always something going on, always something to get involved in.

To be idle at the Institute was very near to impossible. That was an established fact.

But of course, Galvatron didn't know that quite yet.

* * *

**Author's Note: Fanfiction was down for a day and a half, plus the workload for college is steadily increasing, but yeah. Another week, another chapter! :3**


	26. Chapter 26: Mutants Are People Too

**+Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 26**

* * *

Galvatron followed the burly mutant down more hallways deeper into the Institute's inner workings. Coming here a second time, he was able to appreciate the building's grand design – it's big bay windows, carved mahogany stair rails, smooth carpets and tiled floors, beautiful wall and ceiling lamps, and other such exquisite, tasteful commodities. Granted it was nowhere near the opulence of Avengers Mansion, but it was still grand and elegant and made up for such fallacies of extravagance in sheer scale alone. The X-Men's base was easily twice the size of that familiar brownstone mansion planted in the heart of Midtown Manhattan, located as it was outside the bustling metropolis and as such not as constrained by lack of space.

Logan took a turn down another hall. At the end of this hallway was an elevator, ready and waiting for the two of them to arrive. The holo-form took note of the man's slight increase in pace. Obviously he was eager to get down to this so named "Danger Room" and see what damage the rambunctious little mutants had caused. He didn't blame him. Kids had an unfortunate habit of dragging trouble in their wakes wherever they went, however well-intentioned their motivations happened to be in the end. He recalled that Hawkeye had once described Earth children – at least the more rowdy and outgoing ones – as "hyperactive destruction tornadoes".

He smiled when a loud chuckle echoed in his mind: '_Not exactly the most poetic description I have ever heard, but somehow it suffices._'

Galvatron felt a small pang in his chest on recalling the impish archer. He missed him so already – his pointedness, his mischievousness, his knack for annoying anyone he met by just saying a few select words or behaving a certain way. He was one of the few men who was able to distinctly annoy the patient Captain Rogers. No one in the entire Institute, he felt, could match up to Clint's level of rebelliousness, not even Logan. He would miss having that man around.

He slowed to a stop as Logan called the elevator to their floor. With a soft ding it the doors slid open to permit them, and wordlessly each of the two men stepped inside of it. There was a faint click and a barely detectable lurch as the elevator began it's journey down into the sub-levels, reserved exclusively for inhabitants of the Institute. After another soft dinging sound the doors slid back open to let them leave, shutting behind them once they were free of the threshold.

His curiosity got the better of him as they strolled down the underground, metal hallway. "So what exactly is this 'Danger Room' that the boy spoke of?"

"Training room. Pretty basic to start with, but after Forge arrived he did some needed upgrades to the DR's systems, command codes, and prompts." grunted Logan, his eyes riveted to the large, ominously shut doors ahead of him, a large X etched into the door's center.

Hm. So this Danger Room was like the training rooms in Avengers Mansion apparently. Did every superhero base have some sort of training simulator? Or were they unique to certain, specific squadrons? Something to look into in his spare time, certainly.

Hearing that Forge had done some upgrades to it in the past piqued his curiosity further. He knew Forge's mutant power revolved around controlling machines, being able to connect on a near psychic level with them. He was the ultimate hacker and tinkerer, a very valuable set of talents in this modernized world that was rapidly going digital. Primus forbid that man was ever permitted to tinker around his species. He would have far too much fun.

He felt a small pulse of encouragement that he found quite unfathomable, but no words accompanied this sensation. Primus was trying to hint at something concerning Forge, that much he could tell. But what exactly was he hinting at? Forge couldn't repair his hideously damaged internal mechanisms and systems...

Could he?

'_You are an intelligent mech. You tell me. You have all the needed information, child. Piece it together. I am not always going to be giving you the answers. Use that clever processor of yours. Put it to good use._'

Despite the wise words there was still a lingering undercurrent of friendly playfulness that the mech doubted would ever truly leave the deity's tone. That was simply who he was. He was a bringer of joy and light and merriment and anything positive.

Galvatron instantly began to analyse what he knew of Forge and the extent of his unique mutant ability. He knew he could communicate near psychically with machines and computers – basically anything electronic in nature. He knew he had a close to genius level intellect about such devices in consequence, having used his talent from a boy upwards. He had experience with machines, and being temporarily transformed into a Cybertronian might've furthered his knowledge.

So was it indeed possible for the man to repair his crippled internal workings, bringing them out of the pitiable state Unicron's possession had left them in? Perhaps. He would have to find Forge and demand an answer of him. Having his systems working normally would be a great relief to him, and a great help. Fritzing tracking systems, malfunctioning repair nanites, and other such lingering maladies were quite frankly annoying to him to no end. He felt he wasn't giving his hero allies his all, feeling he was only working at half capacity rather than full. He wanted to be able to help them more.

'_Galvatron, you already help them greatly. You needn't push yourself past your physical limits._'

Inwardly he sighed. That was true enough, but still. After all the trouble he put these people through it was only right he put forth considerable effort in his task of aiding them. It seemed only fair.

'_And you do put considerable effort. There is no need to run yourself into the ground. What help can you render them if you are utterly worn out?_'

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to notice that the doors to the Danger Room had yet to open. Unawares, the holo-form smacked face first into them, emitting a startled grunt before drawing quickly back, embarrassed at his inattentiveness. Logan merely grinned wolfishly at him as the doors rumbled open to reveal what was concealed within. Seemed like those doors held a grudge against the poor alien already. Heh. Poor guy.

"I'd back up if I were you." warned Logan, tossing a sideways glance and a smirk at him as the doors rumbled open.

Galvatron eyed him curiously: "Why should I...?"

Almost the very instant the doors were wide enough to permit a human he felt something slam into him, knocking him to the ground.

"Oh! Sorry!" A young male voice called out apologetically.

"Sam! Watch where you're going!" Logan snapped, but not unkindly.

By the time the doors were open he was back on his feet, none the worse for wear if a bit bruised in pride. It hadn't been a serious impact, it had just taken him unawares. He hadn't had quite enough time to react to the sudden charging mutant flying out of the doors like a wild cannonball, apparently named Sam.

Inside the Danger Room it appeared to be in a state of controlled chaos, though he used the term "controlled" quite loosely. Ice coated the walls and floors and formed frozen, spiraling walkways all over the chamber. Shrieks and cries of playfulness wafted into their ears as the young mutants skidded around on the impromptu indoor ice skating rink that Bobbie had formed out of the training room. Spheres of snow flew back and forth between two teams on either side of the room, low rises providing needed cover from the frosty ammunition flying around.

For a Danger Room, this place certainly didn't seem very dangerous to him.

Logan groaned, smacking a hand to his face: "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me, Drake..."

Galvatron merely smiled and shrugged as though saying "Ah, well. Kids. What can you do?" and then strolled into the chamber, taking advantage of the good grip his heavy combat boots provided. He was half tempted to take flight, but with all of those ice bridges crisscrossing through the air he was wary of doing so. His wingspan was very wide, easily rivaling that of Angel's. One wrong movement and he'd clip his wings on one, which might send him careening out of control.

While feeling surprisingly at home here already, he wasn't _quite_ comfortable enough to openly embarrass himself in front of the younglings. Fellow adults like Logan and Xavier perhaps, but not the too easily amused and impressionable children and young teens. He wasn't about to give them ammunition with which to tease him just yet. Not that he didn't like the children, but that could wait.

'_Hah. A wise policy._'

He made his way carefully over to one side of the chamber, checking behind the low snow fortification to find Jamie, Kitty, and Adaryn hunkered behind the low wall. Each one of them grinned up at him and waved cheerfully, not in the least intimidated by his seeming grim looming posture. They could easily see his red eyes were shining in amusement.

"Alright, kids. That's enough." called Logan from the entryway, arms folded over his chest and looking every bit the part of the gruff but kindly uncle.

A chorus of disappointed "Awwww!"'s came from the young mutants. A select few even attempted to use their young, round-eyed charm to persuade him to let them play just a bit longer. Despite the burly mutant giving a faint smile at such efforts of emotional extortion, he shook his head and repeated that enough was enough. Ice wasn't good for the machinery. Forge would have a heart attack if he came in and saw his precious Danger Room turned into a winter wonderland.

"Amara, help Bobbie clean up his ice, would ya? Ray, Roberto, give 'em a hand with that. Everyone else – back topside. You bunch got some homework to do for your classes, remember?"

Reluctantly but obediently the four selected mutants set about clearing the suspended ice bridges, snowy fortifications, and frost-coated walls, floors, and ceiling of the Danger Room. The remaining young mutants slipped and slid towards the door, Galvatron helping the youngest – Jamie – via the simple method of letting him hold his hand to keep his footing, Jamie seemingly very appreciative of this gesture of kindness.

He had to admit he was already liking having kids around. Children brought life and energy to a place, and while a team comprised solely of adults was undoubtedly more qualified to be fighting criminals, there was a certain unpredictability that the young brought with them. The minds of the young were still malleable and more likely to think far outside the standard box of solutions. They had creativity. The young also possessed a certain...innocence, an innocence he had forgotten how much he appreciated and, yes, even cherished.

Once Jamie was dropped off on non-slick, solid ground, the youngling offered him and smile and a thank you before darting off down the hall towards the elevator. Good kids, all of them. It was a shame they were treated differently. He saw nothing wrong with them. It wasn't like they could help having these powers. One didn't have control over genetics. It was just evolution in the works. Why was it that most people didn't seem to see that? Children didn't deserve to be subject to such hatred and bigotry, especially over something they couldn't consciously help.

'_I know. But one cannot force one's own opinions and ideals on others. Doing so only results in more problems._'

Was he saying that...that there was nothing to be done? That mutants would forever live as social outcasts? But that wasn't fair! They hadn't done anything wrong!

'_No, no. That is not what I said at all. What I meant is that all that can be done at the moment is to speak out _–_ and hope ones's words are heard and taken into consideration. There is no forcing involved in such a tactic. It is known as passive or non-violent campaigning. Need I remind you that mutants are being held in a tense socio-political state right now thanks to Senator Kelly. One wrong move...and he gets the excuse to pass his anti-mutant legislation._'

He nodded grimly, frowning. He appreciated the situation now, understood that actively trying to alter people's opinions on mutants was an incredibly risky proposition. Better to do small but significant tasks that would build up over time rather than one massive act that might be taken the wrong way by such narrow-minded politicians. Primus, Kelly sounded no better than members of the old Senate back on Cybertron – the selfsame Senate that had instigated the caste system.

Hmph. And that turned out so very well, hadn't it?

A tap on his arm brought him out of his dark musings. He looked down to see Rogue gazing at him, faint worry in her eyes.

"You alright, flyboy?" the girl asked in her rich Southern drawl.

He looked away, replying in what he hoped was a non-conversational but honest tone: "Nothing. I'm fine."

Her expression showed she was less than convinced. "No, you're not. Somethin's buggin' you. What is it?"

The holo-form sighed, gusting air out of his mouth, but rather than reply back right away, he motioned with his hand to the four young mutants inside, busy at work cleaning the Danger Room of Bobbie's ice. Instead of being grudging about it or griping about their task, they had quickly found ways of making it fun, enjoyable, and entertaining. Amara and Roberto were working off each other's own talents, while Ray and Bobbie were screwing with one another, the former playfully zapping the latter if it looked like he would get off task.

"They don't deserve it." murmured Galvatron, red eyes growing more pained as he continued to observe.

Rogue's head titled to one side as her brows puckered together confusedly. She had an inkling as to what was bothering him, but she decided to ask for clarification anyway, just to satisfy herself as to the issue at hand. "What don't they deserve?"

"To be hated."

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his thick Kevlar leggings, he turned sharply on his heels and stalked off, wings and head held low. After a few moments the holo-form simply faded away like a mirage as the alien user in the hangar dismissed it. A faint aura of despair seemed to linger in the air for a moment as an after effect, but then it, too, faded away.

Rogue's expression became one of pained sympathy. She sighed, shook her head slowly, and turned her attention back to the young mutants who were still busy at playful work inside the Danger Room. Galvatron was right. They were just kids. They didn't deserve to be the target of adult hatred. They deserved to live happy, normal lives, free from bigotry and blind aggression from people that they didn't even know, and from people they _did_ know. They were children, not criminals, and definitely not freaks or monsters.

But then, a faint ghost of a smile flickered in an out of existence on her lips. '_Then_ _m__aybe you're just what we need to fix this problem, Galvatron..._'

* * *

Outside, the darkness of midnight had fallen on the grounds of the Xavier Institute. Being located far outside the city, the typical glare of city lights was much reduced, permitting the full moon to bathe the expanse of well-maintained turf and stone walkways surrounding the main building in pale, silvery light. The faint chirrups of frogs and chirping of nocturnal insects provided a soft melody to anyone keen enough of ear to hear it.

Galvatron stood on the empty game field behind the building, helm angled slightly back as he gazed thoughtfully up at the few stars bright enough to pierce through the ambient lights of the still bustling city in the near distance, his red optics casting a gentle ruby glow, the pale light of the full moon above turning his dark grey armor to silver. One might've thought he was stargazing, reminiscing of home, but he wasn't, not really.

He was thinking.

The problem of mutants seem to be a well-established one, and that was deeply troubling. Such extensive hatred didn't occur overnight, as he well knew. It took time to fester and grow. Mutants were not merely a modern issue, but one that dated back quite a ways – how far back exactly he did not know. But he would have thought after such a span of time (still indeterminate) that mutants would at the least be tolerated somewhat, but no. The bigotry against them still ran as hot as the fires of the Pit.

And it wasn't just normal civilians who detested them. Lawmakers did, too. That politicians were so embedded in this was a bad sign to him. People like Senator Kelly would make the X-Men's mission of aiding and finally being accepted into mainstream society much more complicated. Then again, nothing with politics was ever really simple, was it? Politicians, human or Cybertronian, always seemed to enjoy making a situation out of something, anything.

Was that why groups such as the Avengers and Fantastic Four hadn't embroiled themselves in the issue of mutants? Did they understand just how complex the issue was, and were they fearful of making a bad situation worse? If that were the case, then surely there had to be other ways of rendering aid other than direct, physical involvement. Donations to the Institute, perhaps – anonymous funds, technology, spare parts for their vehicles?

He heard a thoughtful rumble in the back of his mind, but no words accompanied it. It seemed his adviser was just in deep in thought as he was, maybe even more thoughtful. Considering his words from many nights ago, this hesitation of his was not entirely unexpected. The last time this entity had tried to remove social strife, a long, brutal, and bloody civil war spanning millenia had broken out, nearly eradicating the entire Cybertronian race. Granted he was not exactly allowed to "directly interfere" per say, but he was allowed to render aid where it was needed. And slagging Pit-fire did mutants need a helping hand.

The mech then felt a gentle pulse in his spark, reminding him of a friendly nudge. He could easily imagine the deity giving him a soft, tired, but encouraging smile.

'_Considering the fact that you have been up for nearly seventy-two hours straight, I suggest you get a few hours of light power down before the morning._'

A small smirk formed on his faceplates. Not to be a stater of the blatantly obvious, but with someone like Forge running around, was that really a smart idea? Not that he didn't trust the mutant, and he was thinking of finding him to see if he could help get some of his systems in working order again; it was just the simple fact that he'd rather not be tinkered on while unawares. Just personal preference.

'_I'm certain if you voiced that preference to him he would listen. He's impulsive, but he holds Cybertronians in high regard._'

Oh, well, then it was fortunate he'd managed to snag the frequency his communicator had used when he had been in the hangar.

"Forge?"

A sleepy sounding male voice replied, his words ever so slightly slurred from sleep: [Hmm? Yeah? Whassup?]

Heh. That answered his question. Forge was too tired to go running down to the hangar in the middle of the night to tinker on him. He smiled faintly: "Never mind. I'll ask in the morning when you're more alert. My apologies for waking you."

[M'kay. Night...]

On hearing the click of the line being shut down he turned about and headed for the basketball court and the waiting, warm hangar hidden beneath it.


	27. Chapter 27: The Sentinel Program

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 27**

*****_Action begins this chapter! No worries! I'm just lettin' poor Galv rant internally in the beginning so he can get it off his chest._

* * *

Once sheltered within the underground hangar and reverting to vehicle mode, Galvatron intended to slip into light power down to enable him to wake at the slightest sound in case of issue or, Primus forbid, an attack by the MRD or some other mad group that hated these friendly mutants with a passion, but whether by outside design or subconscious exhaustion he plunged into deep recharge – deep enough to begin dreaming again.

He wasn't complaining though. In fact, he rather welcomed it. Dreaming was a chance to interact personally with the little voice in his helm, and he really wanted to discuss the issue and situation of mutants with him. To him, this was a major problem, one that seemed all too familiar to him. There were more than a few parallels in the social issues of mutants and the social issues of members of the lower castes back on Cybertron during the so called "Golden Age" and times before, and many of these parallels made his Energon boil in silent rage. He truly sympathized with them. He knew what it was like to be overlooked, hated, and even abused.

Unlike his last dreamscape, which had been dark, mist-ridden, and tranquil, Galvatron's highly active mind had conjured up another Cybertronian city, only this time instead of Iacon, it was Kaon, the city that he had called home for much of his early life and the city he had named as the capital of all the Decepticon forces during his time as a warmonger. He had remembered it as gritty and shadowy when he had inhabited it, but his mind envisioned it as what it might have looked like in the distant past – sprawling, cleaner, and with a certain grim elegance to the spires and buildings. Idealized, true, but somehow it felt right to him.

Finding the friendly white and gold mech proved to be the challenge. He searched the plazas, the alleys, the streets, even the interior ground floors of some of the larger buildings, but he could not find Primus. It was as though he were playing an ill-timed game of hide and seek with him.

Realization struck him as he passed through one of the main plazas: this was his mind, and Primus was melded to it. He didn't need to _find _him. He didn't need to _look_ for him. He simply needed to wait for him to manifest. Perhaps he was busy elsewhere in his subconscious and just needed time to meet up with him here, wherever here was in terms of the dreaming mind. Navigating a subconscious as complex as he assumed his was might be a bit difficult, and the deity might be a bit out of practice.

And so he made his way towards the plaza's center and contented himself to wait, contemplating his own thoughts – his past as a lower caste member, the long war that fighting against such social segregation caused, and the mutants, some who were but children, who suffered under such bigotry and hatred, but never really seemed to achieve a victory in combating it. It seemed to the mech to be a constant case of two steps forward, one step back. An uphill battle with seemingly no end in sight... He frowned. That was something he could sympathize with. That was something the Prime and his little team could sympathize with, too.

Frankly that was something anyone who had suffered injustice or strife could sympathize with.

"Indeed." There was detectable pain in the newly present but familiar voice.

In spite of himself the mech jumped, startled, and whirled around to face the resplendent white and gold speaker, whose gold optics were dim and filled with silent anguish. His typically shining armor was dull. Seeing the normally sprightly and humorous essence of Cybertron so dimmed down – it took him aback. This was not how he was used to seeing him and, dare he say, it made him...a little uneasy.

He didn't waste any time launching into his pointed questions. "Isn't there anything you can do for them?"

The deity shook his helm sadly: "No. I wish there was, frankly, but I fear my direct involvement would do more harm than good. That's not to mention it might just possibly provoke my brother into doing something...regrettable. Would you rather I intervene directly and cause these mutants more unnecessary pain, or would you rather I assist them from the background – through you?"

Galvatron winced. He hadn't thought of it like that. But he wasn't about to be deterred from his interrogation, either.

"Then...isn't there something _I _could do for them? Something active rather than passive? I won't stand for doing _nothing _for them! Standing idly on the sidelines and letting them be abused is not something I'll stand for! Can't I do _something_ active to help them?"

At that, the faintest flicker of a smile ghosted across Primus's lip-plates. There was something...something in his still-dimmed golden optics that Galvatron simply couldn't identify. There was pain in them, but it was a pain not related to the issue at hand, and also something else – hope, admiration perhaps? – as he murmured softly to himself, helm shaking slowly, the words barely audible:

"Still so impatient. Hm. I suppose some thing never change..."

Galvatron folded his arms over his chestplates and put on his best, most impatient, give-me-an-answer-right-slagging-now look.

"The truth is, you have already helped them a great deal, perhaps more than you yet realize."

He blinked, arms falling back to his sides in surprise. That wasn't what he had been anticipating in a reply. "Come again?"

Motioning for the grey and black mech to walk with him, sensing as he was his innate urge to never be idle, he began:

"Do you recall what I told you about passive campaigning? Sometimes small acts can pave the way for larger ones with greater overall impact. You are already associated with the Avengers, who are known worldwide and supported by a good many people, by having served with them in the field. That association of yours can be used to a great advantage. You are as of now viewed as an Avenger, even if you do not bear their crest. Anything you say or do will be taken in high regard. And do you realize how difficult it is for these mutants to make outside contacts _because _of all the hatred they face on a day-to-day basis? It has left them rather isolated. By befriending them, accepting them for who they are, you _have_ helped them in a tremendous way."

Galvatron felt some of his doubt and bubbling impatience to do something fade on hearing him say these things. Worded in such a way it did in fact seem like he had already done something quite productive to assist the X-Men and, through them, all mutants. Productive didn't necessarily mean doing something major or world-shaking. Productive could just mean opening a door for someone, or thanking them for an assist, or helping a young mutant cross a small, impromptu ice rink as he had done with Jaime – things that at first seemed little and inconsequential, but that truly held meaning to those subject to them and that would, over time, amount to something great.

"So you're saying just be there for them, support them in whatever way I can?"

"Yes. Sometimes small acts combined end up having greater impact than all the great acts ever done. Mistakes concerning a small act can also be more easily corrected than those of a large one. Not that I am saying you will make a mistake, but consider that the benefit of the doubt."

The world around him suddenly shook slightly, the buildings beginning to crumble into streams of silvery and black dust. Every so often the world around him seemed to pulse like a strobe light, but in a pattern his subconscious found vaguely familiar, and not in a good way. Instinctively he tensed, forcing his glyph-etched Falchion into his mental existence. This hadn't happened before. Had Nightmare decided it was time for a round two with him? To get revenge for his utter humiliation at the mech's hands?

A hand was lain on his shoulder, convincing him to loosen up and lower the mystic blade. Regardless, he still looked up at the deity for some sort of explanation as to what the flying frag was going on. Why was his dream world suffering a seizure, or whatever it was that was happening? Who or what was responsible for this?

He wasn't reassured when Primus's frown returned and his gold optics flooded with worry. A sense of grim urgency swirled around the deity as the darkly elegant city of Kaon continued to crumble to dust all around them. Once towering spires were now only thick eddies of grey and black dust, and smaller buildings were now merely thin streams of similarly colored dust. Above, the darkness accented with speckles of light shuddered in tandem with this deconstruction. The shuddering pulses drew ever stronger as he watched in worried alarm.

"Trouble draws near. Awaken, now. They need you."

One hand was raised, and then the world around flashed a blinding, brilliant white that seared his optics, but that caused no pain.

* * *

Galvatron awoke to the loud klaxon of a low, droning alarm and the flashing of red lights above and around him. Both these factors served to sweep away the last, lingering shreds of power down coding in his processor, and in a flash he reverted out of vehicle mode to get a better idea of what was going on, or failing just make a few educated guesses.

The Blackbird and a few of the other, smaller, more low-profile vehicles were all still in the hangar, meaning the X-Men either still in the Institute or else relatively nearby. His sensitive audials were picking up the sounds of pounding feet in the building above him – fast-paced footfalls that told of a crisis at hand. What unnerved him the most was the heavier clanging of metallic footfalls that eerily reminded him of his own. There weren't as many, and he knew they weren't Cybertronian, but it was enough to set his protectiveness off like a flare.

Spotting the manual override for the hangar doors, he pounded the large red panel-like button and watched as the doors rumbled open, revealing a clear blue sky dotted with clouds. But then a roiling ball of magma shot by, leaving a smoking, glowing contrail of embers behind it, followed by a stream of ice and a stinging surge of electricity. That confirmed it – there was a battle going on on the grounds. With what though? It certainly didn't sound like other mutants.

He felt his spark tighten then as the entity within began to worry profusely, worry that was quickly giving way to alarm and panic and all of those emotions' siblings. The all-powerful little voice in his head who was effectively the embodiment of everything positive – _afraid_? What was he afraid of?

'_Oh no...No..._'

"What? What is it? What's going on?"

'_Sentinels. Something must've happened. Kelly got the reason he needs to pass his anti-mutant legislation, probably late last night or very early this morning. This is not good. Get up there now! They'll get slaughtered if they don't get support! Even if they aren't intelligent, those things are designed to kill!_'

Not needing any more encouragement, the mech reverted back into vehicle mode and lifted out of the underground hangar to a scene more suited to a nightmare. It made his spark clench in fear and his Energon boil in outrage, and yet there was a persistent little tingle of hope inside him too that appeared when he took a closer look. Everything wasn't lost quite yet.

Massive purple and maroon robots the size of a Cybertronian stomped around on the Institute's grounds, blasting energy from their palms and yellow optics. Others resembling scorpions, much smaller than their larger, bipedal companions, snapped their claws and fired beams from their tails, many of these blasts missing their targets and instead scorching turf or pummeling stone walkways. Mutants young and old darted around between the feet of the larger robots and flew around their heads while others kept the insect-bots busy.

The dumb Sentinels didn't seem to be able to adapt to the X-Men's ever changing tactics, and that was a good thing. That meant they weren't sentient, but under the control of a wireless pilot or perhaps a rudimentary control program. That would be like fighting an armed maintenance drone. And he'd fought far worse in the Pits of Kaon and on this world than an armed maintenance drone. Pfft. This would be a walk in the crystal park.

That little tingle of hope grew then until it became determination. He'd get rid of these walking tin cans – and then he'd go find that thrice-slagged Kelly and give him a piece of his processor. Attacking innocent mutants without provocation of any kind? Was the man utterly mad? He could get in serious legal trouble for this, and he would ensure that he did!

'_Galvatron. That may do more harm than good. Remember _–_ easy does it._' Primus cautioned.

He transformed and landed on the scorched turf with a heavy thud, the noise garnering the attention of mutant and machine alike, the former group grinning as if they had gone completely crazy, the latter eyeing him with the impassive, blank stare of a true machine as they scanned him. In all likelihood they didn't even know what to do with him, seeing as he wasn't obviously armed. They were programmed to go after mutants, not Cybertronians. Heh. They'd regret ignoring him.

"_Error. No mutant gene found. Weapons: Negligible. Threat: Minimum. Resolution: Ignore._" droned a Sentinel in hollow monotone. Then the robot turned back to the mutants.

Ignore? Oh, that was a mistake, one this brainless, sparkless tin can of an automaton wouldn't live to regret. No one called him a minimum threat and got away with it in one piece. He wasn't the champion of the Pits of Kaon without just cause. Nothing and no one survived against him except for a select few talented individuals.

"Alright then. I'll show you who isn't a threat!"

Focusing, he summoned the Falchion of the Fallen from the ether, not needing to shut his optics to focus, gripping the hilt of the sword while the blade itself formed in the course of mere seconds. He took it for granted the Sentinels would pick up some sort of energy surge and turn their attention back on him. Magic, as Strange had told him, was just complex energy manipulation, and as such it emitted a different, distinct, but detectable energy.

Attention pinned to the Sentinel who was busy trying to shake Wolfsbane from its arm all while avoiding lightning strikes from Storm and electricity zaps shot by Berserker, Galvatron hefted the blade and readied to hurl it like a spear, waiting until the robot was too occupied to fight back. The blade itself seemed to hum in anticipation, the dark lavender glyphs pulsing more and more rapidly, almost as if the weapon was..._hungry_.

"Rahne! Ray! Get away! Now!"

Wolfsbane eyed him, understood what he intended to do, and promptly released her vice bite on the Sentinel's arm. Berserker simply nodded and darted to a safe distance, still persistently shooting arcs of electricity to keep the robot occupied. Such action was not needed thanks to Storm, who managed to pin the robot in place with a volley of lightning bolts and massively powerful gusts of wind, one stray bolt frying the motor circuits of one of the scorpion bots skittering around its massive feet, the insect-bot spasming before going still.

'_Please be something useful, please be something useful..._' Galvatron pleaded silently to his weapon.

With that, he hurled the blade like a spear towards his target Sentinel. The Falchion seemed to come alive as he watched, dark lavender lightning dancing around on the weapon's body. When it impaled itself in the Sentinel, a spectacular eruption of electricity engulfed it in the blink of an optic, frying the whole machine to a crisp and burning it blacker than ink. Like a cut tree it creaked, groaned, and then toppled over with a resounding crash, crushing the short-circuited scorpion-bot beneath it.

He blinked in surprise, then grinned: "That works."

* * *

MUTANT RESPONSE DIVISION (MRD)  
SENTINEL PROJECT CONTROL ROOM  
LOCATION: [REDACTED]

[Uh, Mister Trask? You may want to get down to the control room. There's...been an unforeseen development in the test run.]

Almost as soon as the message was sent across the private frequency the doors to the command center burst open to permit a tall, thin individual of Caucasian descent wearing dark blue military-type garb over which a starch white lab coat hung rather loosely around his body and arms. Severe blue-grey eyes peered out of a pair of large glasses. He looked at first a bit like a college chemistry professor, and not the kind that students tended to like, but Bolivar Trask was not a professor. He was a top-notch robotics engineer employed by the MRD, tasked with helping them keep the so termed "mutant situation" under control by whatever means he saw fit.

"Yes? What is it?

No sooner had the question left his mouth did he take full notice of the feed screens...and then went as rigid as a post. His blue-grey eyes went wide in shock and more than a little awe. There on the screen of Sentinel X1-09 was every robotics engineer's dream – a Cybertronian. As he watched, the mechanical alien summoned a strange weapon out of thin air and hurled it at the Sentinel, electricity arcs whirling around the blade as it flew forward like a spear, then impacted the robot's face. The screen promptly fizzled and blacked out, the last reading taken by the Sentinel being a massive electrical surge of nearly unquantifiable levels.

"Sir? W-What do we do? Sentinels aren't programmed to target Cybertronians. And this one's able to use magic!"

"Clearly." Trask agreed dryly. "No matter. He cannot hope to protect all of them at once. He is but one, and the Sentinels are many. They can be easily replaced, but the freaks cannot. Keep on with the trial run. Senator Kelly desires results in an hour. If we can report to him the effectiveness of my creations against not only mutants, but Cybertronians as well, he will be most pleased."

"Yes, sir."

Trask spun 'round and strode briskly from the room. He had not anticipated a Cybertronian to join forces with the X-Men, nor had he anticipated the alien to be able to use terrestrial magic so effectively. But he had faith in his own work. Let them break the machines; he cared not for the losses. Each Sentinel that was destroyed by the mutants provided more tactical insight for the next generation. Every Sentinel obliterated by the X-Men simply hastened their own extinction.

* * *

The scorpion-bots proved to be much easier targets for the mutants due to their smaller size. With that small size however came added speed and agility, but the younglings were able to compensate for it rather easily, combining their talents and smartly corralling them all within a make-shift moat of lava surrounded by a wall of ice. Berserker was able to electrocute them all in one go, each scorpion-bot spasming once or twice before falling still.

Each young mutant, feeling understandably confident, began running or flying towards Galvatron, Storm, Wolverine, and a few of their older companions who were engaged with numerous larger Sentinels, the mech easily slicing one in half at the torso. On spotting the younglings, he put a stop to such hasty action with a barked order:

"No! Stay back!"

His distraction, while brief, allowed a Sentinel to lay a heavy blow to his helm. He staggered back, stunned and aggravated that he'd let his guard down. These things were stronger than he'd originally thought. But so was he, and he had far more training and skill than this worthless piece of junk did. Snarling, he sliced his blade downwards, severing the Sentinel's arm clean off, then jabbed it into the machine's head, dragging it down until the Sentinel was cleaved cleanly in two. Both halves fell, exposed circuits smoking from electrical overload.

Hearing the lumbering footsteps of another, he spun around, hacking its limbs off with ease. He finished off the dismembered body with a stab to the chest. But there were still more of them stomping around – well over two dozen of the over-sized tin cans. Skilled as he and the senior X-Men were combined, they couldn't compete with their numbers and sheer size. There had to be an easier way – a way to get them all in one go. How though?

Unconsciously his gaze strayed over to the younglings clustered nearby whose eyes were round with worry and a smidge of fright. He didn't want to involve them in this fight, but...what other option was there? That was what they were here for, to learn control and self-defense. Why should he hinder them by keeping them out of it? They'd managed against the scorpion-bots just fine. What were a few walking tin cans to those clever little devils?

He caught Wolverine's eye, and the older mutant seemed to understand. The man slashed off the legs of a Sentinel before calling out to the younglings:

"A'ight newbies! You want some action? Have at 'em! No mercy!"

On saying those words, Logan effectively unleashed all the forces of Hell on the remaining Sentinels. The younglings literally went on a demolition spree with their powers – freezing, melting, slicing, pounding, blasting, and anything in between, the lumbering robots unable to keep up with their fast movements and ever-changing tactics. Even the spriest of the adults had difficulty keeping pace. Galvatron made a mental note to himself to never get on the children's bad sides. No way would he survive against them.

As he fought by their sides, the mech took particular note of Angel swooping over the heads of the Sentinels, playing obnoxious, persistent decoy while his friends let rip on them with their powers. For a while it seemed to work, but Warren's luck took a sudden turn for the worse when a Sentinel got in a lucky shot on his starboard wing, sending the mutant crashing to the ground, tiny tendrils of smoke rising from the badly singed white feathers. Angel doggedly pushed himself to his feet in spite of the injury, attempting to flap his wings to get airborne, only to wince at the pain lacing through the one.

The Sentinel who had shot him down advanced, droning: "_Target: Acquired. Decontamination: Commencing._"

It lifted one massive foot over the downed flier, then...

_SSHRNG!_

The Sentinel froze for half a second, soulless eyes examining the blade that was just finishing cutting through its body as though it were made of paper from the head downwards. And then it simply fell apart, splitting in half right down the middle, the halves falling to the turf with loud banging thuds. Galvatron was revealed looming over the remains, red optics furious, and Angel had a pretty good idea what was ticking him off. He recalled the Sentinel's pre-programmed words:

"_Decontamination..._"

Snarling to himself, the mech took off after another Sentinel giving Beast and his group of younglings a bit of trouble. He raised the blade to slice the robot in half, but to his shock and consternation the blade shattered as though suddenly made of glass.

He stared at the jagged stump of the once terrifying looking weapon: "What?"

The mech backed away, not so very contented that he'd gotten the robot's attention off the mutants. They could handle it now, but this...that had never happened before! What in the Pit was going on?

Why had the Falchion of the Fallen broken?

'_Decontamination...'_

Was...that Sentinel wasn't immune to magic, was it? No, no it couldn't be. He would've detected the defensive aura around it as close as he'd been to it.

'_They don't see them as people._'

He tried again, re-forming the blade through sheer force of will. He swung it at the robot's torso, but just like before it shattered into dozens of thick grey shards that then turned to grey mist, blown away on an invisible breeze. What the slag was going on with this sword? Why was it suddenly so brittle?

'_They see them as a plague, a disease to be eradicated_...'

There was a sharp pain in his spark then, accompanied by searing heat. It wasn't supremely painful, but it was enough to make him wince and put a hand over his chestplates in a fruitless attempt to quell the sensation. He didn't know what that was all about, but he knew Primus was telling him something vital – something he honestly should've inferred before:

It was his _concentration_ that was screwing with the sword's durability. Trying to focus on a secondary issue that bothered him deeply while having the Falchion conjured reduced its strength considerably. Distractions to his mind served to weaken the mystic blade to the point where it was about as effective as using a wooden stick against a bank vault door.

'_Focus, child. Do not let the opinions of others impair your ability to fight back. Channel the anger you feel into the blade. Lend it your strength._'

He took the advice wordlessly, letting every drop of anger, rage, and loathing flood into the Falchion. The glyphs on the blade's fuller began flickering madly, flashing on and off and on and off like a strobe light gone berserk. With a growl more befitting of a Predacon, Galvatron surged forward and cleaved downwards on the last standing Sentinel, aiming for the robot's neck...

_SHHRNG!_

There was a certain grim finality in the heavy thud of the severed head impacting the ground. For a while the headless frame stood there, the motor circuits wondering why the commands had suddenly ceased. A second passed by, then another, and then at last the body began to tilt forward on its own weight before crashing down with a reverberating, hollow banging noise.

Galvatron straightened and let the blade fade away, gazing around at the battered Sentinels littering the turf like grotesque lawn decorations. His red optics quickly swept over the bodies of all the mutants present, satisfied to know that any injuries sustained were minor – cuts, bruises, minor energy burns. But the fact remained that they had still been injured, attacked without any provocation.

In his mind there was only one question he wanted answered, and slag everything else to the Pit until he got it:

"_Where's Kelly_?" snarled the mech.

* * *

**Author's Note: Man, I'm on a role with posting chapters! Two in one day! **

***Note 1: Sentinels on the scene so suddenly seems a bit random, but look back on Trask's words. This was all a test run, and the X-Men were ideal candidates, having far more experience than the Brotherhood. But more on that in the next chapter...**


	28. Chapter 28: How Is This Even Legal!

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 28**

* * *

"_Where's Kelly?_"

Just the way Galvatron snarled that name made it seem as though he was spitting out a curse. Every mutant on the lawn looked at the mech in surprise and worry, Jean especially. The mutant telepath could sense all the anger roiling around in his mind like a powerful, raging storm. Galvatron wasn't just upset about this attack – he was outraged. And knowing what she knew of his personality so far, she was afraid he might do something reckless. But at the same time she knew if anyone could convince Senator Kelly to back off and leave civil, helpful mutants alone, he could.

Jean connected to his mind after a short moment of struggle, sending out a psychic wash of calmness and placidity that she desperately hoped would get through to the mech:

'_Galv, easy. Calm down. We'll get through this. But please don't do anything stupid, alright? Go after Kelly and you'll get in a whole world of trouble with the law. You want to keep your reputation as one of the good guys, then avoid attacking politicians. You do that, you go back to square one. Go talk to him about this if you feel you have to, but for the love of God don't hurt him. That'll only makes things worse._'

A low snarl was all Jean got in reply, so she wasn't exactly reassured. Only a faint replying pulse from the other presence in his mind a moment or two later told him he had in fact heeded her warning, or at least heard her. He wouldn't hurt Kelly, at least not physically. That would undue all the positive work he'd done thus far. Words would get his point across just as well, and frag would he give that man an earful over this.

Knowing that arguing with him was a fruitless endeavor, she sent out a burst of raw information detailing exactly where he would be able to find the Senator in question – Washington, D.C.. Again she warned him not to do anything brash. He had to be mature and civil about this meeting. Striking back over this attack non-physically was the only way to do it if he wanted Kelly to actually listen to him – and, you know, not get in massive amounts of legal trouble. The best defense was a sensible, well-planned, _tactical_ offense.

And then, just like that, the Cybertronian screamed off into the skies.

He'd find Kelly. Oh, he would. And he'd make him regret _ever_ targeting these innocent young people.

'_Professor? Um...could you somehow give the Avengers a warning that their friend might just go off the deep end over this? Maybe Adaryn, too? She and he seemed pretty close. I think they're the only ones who can bring him back out of this mind-set __–__ keep him from doing something regrettable._'

'_Of course. But have a little more faith in our guardian, Jean. He means well, and he knows that harming Senator Kelly will cause trouble for him. Despite letting his emotions guide his choices more often than not, he is quite level-headed._'

She could only pray the Professor was right about this. That mech had seemed pretty determined to squash Kelly under his pede if given the opportunity.

* * *

Galvatron cut through the skies, pushing himself to his limits, New York's skyline rapidly drawing smaller and smaller. He barely paid his screaming thrusters and engine any mind. His focus was riveted solely on his scanners, which displayed a real-time map of the skies from New York all the way to the D.C area. He was in a rush to get there and he didn't want to have a mid-air collision with a passenger or private aircraft.

Within the hour the sprawling complex of government buildings and monuments began to appear on the horizon. He'd never actually seen the United States capital in person, and he had to admit the buildings themselves were rather impressive. Humans surely had a gift when it came to architecture, but he cut that mild train of thought cold as he drew ever nearer, forcibly recalling the psychic burst of data Jean had give him. According to it, Kelly could be found in one of the low buildings delegated as offices to the national Senate.

Spotting a decent sized stretch of turf, he banked and lowered, at last settling on the short-trimmed grass which took a few government officials on break nearby by surprise. He disabled his thrusters soon afterwards and activated his holo-form, the projection taking flight and soaring towards the target building. He had to trust no one would bother his vehicle mode with anything other than a few surprised double-takes. He knew for a fact that security here was incredibly tight. He thus shoved that instinctive worry aside.

Landing, the holo-form thrust the doors open and strode in, ignoring the startled looks of the people inside. He knew he couldn't waltz into the Senator's office, but slagged if he wanted to ignore protocol and do just that. He thus made his way to the receptionist's desk, the young, dark-skinned female employee herself busily chatting away on a Bluetooth device. She must've spotted him out of the corner of her eyes, because she did a prompt double take and proceeded to stare at him, mouth slightly agape.

"Senator Kelly. I need to speak him. Now." His voice wasn't raised, but his tone held ice-cold anger in it.

Her mouth finally snapped shut, and she seemed to regain her ability to speak. "Yeah, I'll call you back in a bit, Danica. Got someone here. Bye."

She then proceeded to call up another number on the Bluetooth, unawares that the call was being tapped by the strange man in front of her:

"Uh, sir? There's, uh, someone who wants to see you."

A rather annoyed sounding sigh came from the other end. [Let me guess. Another mutant protester here to make demands of me.]

The receptionist eyed the man's black wings and their glittering, razor-edged armor curiously, almost warily it seemed. It was a wonder none of the security personnel had tried to apprehend him over them. While wings normally meant mutant, she had the oddest sense that this man wasn't a mutant. He was something else. And there was another thing she picked up on – he seemed to radiate power, the kind of special power someone held that forced you to turn and look at them no matter what. She also felt strangely safe around him despite his intimidating appearance.

Then realization hit her square in the face. This wasn't a mutant. This was the Avenger Galvatron.

"Um...n-not exactly, sir. It's, uh, um, well...let's just say it's someone you really don't want to make mad or say 'No. Go away' to. He doesn't look very happy, and he is technically armed."

[Alright. Send him back, I suppose. Let's see what he has to say.]

She nodded and gestured him back. As soon as he was gone, she whipped out her smartphone and texted her friend Danica frantically:

*_Girl! Girlgirlgirl! Galvatron just came into the office looking for Kelly! Freaking Galvatron! From the Avengers! I'm not even kidding! He looked P'd off, too!_*

*_O: Oooh! Shinola's gonna hit the fan, girlfriend! Say your prayers! Kelly ain't comin' outta this one without some major burns!_*

*_Lol! You said it! xD_*

* * *

Senator Robert Kelly was busy leafing through a mountain of papers on his desk when the doors to his office unceremoniously burst open, but he didn't look up to see who it was. A moment later two hands were slammed down angrily on his mahogany desk, the sudden rush of air dislodging some of the little leaflets scattered about. This at last convinced the Senator to look up.

Glowering at him, livid expression accentuated by a single scar on one cheek, was a tall man outfitted in full body black Kevlar armor, two massive, armor-adorned black wings protruding from his back casting a severe shadow over desk and user. In spite of everything, Kelly's heart skipped a beat at the sight, eyes widening ever so slightly. Such shock was temporary however, and both symptoms quickly abated, replaced by cool, emotionless professionalism.

"Yes?"

In a flash of light, a sword made of dark lavender energy was held a mere inch from his throat. Kelly showed no reaction other than a noticeable hitch in his breathing rhythm.

"If you want to keep your head on your shoulders, you'd best explain yourself, human." Galvatron hissed.

"Explain what? I don't even know what you're here for." the Senator said.

"_You_ green-lighted the anti-mutant legislation that sent a platoon of Sentinels to the Xavier Institute where they proceeded to attack any and all mutants on the grounds on sight. A good number of the students there sustained injuries whilst defending themselves, myself included. _You _gave the order to their programmer to unleash them and have them specifically target mutants. And if you say you had nothing to do with that, I'll take that remorseless, lying head of yours clean off!"

His tone devolved into an angry snarl, yet at the same time the holo-form became far more articulate in his speech as he launched into his angry tirade, gesticulating while he spoke:

"You boast of your country's freedoms, yet you deny that freedom to anyone whom you deem outside the norm of mainstream society! You ostracize these poor people merely because they are different than you, because they can do things _you_ can't, and you would _hunt_ them like _wild dogs_ because of their differences! Oh, yes. I heard what the Sentinels said about mutants. 'Contamination' they called them. Your hatred of mutants is well known to me thanks to Soundwave's research, and clearly you have a friend who has rudimentary skills in robotics engineering. Neither of you see them as people. You seem them as a disease, a plague to be gotten rid of. That's not freedom – that's _fear. _You would guiltlessly condone an unprovoked _mass murder_ and _genocide_ of a group of people just because they are different from you!"

He finished with a snarled question: "So tell me, would you have slept well tonight, knowing you would've been responsible for the deaths of _innocent __children_? Would your conscience have been weighed down by their blood coating your hands?"

By this point the sword was within a quarter of a millimeter of the Senator's neck. Kelly could actually feel the tingle of the energy, though the blade didn't give off as much heat as he was expecting. That observation didn't exactly serve to reassure him, however. The ire of the man holding said sword to his throat was only seeming to grow with every passing moment he remained silent. If he didn't speak, he had every reason to believe the man would go through with his threat.

"Do you realize how much a growing problem mutants are? Their numbers have been increasing exponentially these past few years, far faster than in the past. Their powers are incredibly dangerous to normal civilians, not to mention those powers are open to abuse. Many have been harmed by them. We use the Sentinels to help 'contain the situation' as my friend puts it. We simply needed a place to give them a dry run, and the Xavier Institute is filled with talented young mutants who would provide good combat data. They were not programmed to kill. That they attempted to is most troubling. That sounds like a bug in their coding. I'll be sure to have my friend correct that issue."

Galvatron's red eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do I not believe you?"

"Am I _asking_ you to believe me?"

He fell silent on that. Kelly had a point, but he still sensed that not everything the man said was wholly true. His hatred of mutants would make lying about attempted murder of an entire school of them all too easy. He had no reason to trust a single word that came out of his mouth, but at the same time Kelly had every reason to believe his words thanks in no small part to his outrage over the incident, not to mention the sword tip currently held to his neck.

'_Child, you have made your point. You have given him fair warning. Now leave._'

But...Kelly had attempted murder of innocent people! Did he just expect him to walk away from such a criminal? To let him and his sick deed go unpunished? Had he no sense of justice for them?!

The all-powerful little voice became sterner, but its underlying tone was still gentle: '_Galvatron, there is nothing more you can do here. Go._'

Emitting a low snarling growl, Galvatron dismissed the energy blade, spun on his heels, and stalked towards the door, his halfway-extended wings generating a small swirling of wind in the office. Just as he was about to exit, he turned back to glare at the remorseless criminal sitting calmly behind the desk. For a brief moment he had a discomfiting sense of looking in a warped mirror, causing his deep scowl to falter. Then it came back, said scowl transforming into an infuriated frown. A growl escaped his throat, one more befitting of a beast than a man.

"Try something like that again and I'll have Soundwave see to it that you're _dragged_ out of this office in _handcuffs_!" snarled the holo-form.

And with that parting warning he strode out of the doors, slamming them shut behind him with enough force to make the walls rattle.

* * *

Kelly, once certain the man was good and gone, dialed a number on his smartphone. It rang for a second or two until the connection went through, and a voice spoke from the other end:

[Yes? What is it Robert?]

"Someone just came into my office raving about the 'unprovoked' attack on the Xavier school. He just left, but he threatened to have me run out of office if I didn't lower the tone on my anti-mutant acts. I may have to make my endorsement of your work more covert from now on. I can't allow him or the X-Men to know about my plan on dealing with the growing mutant problem. I do hope you understand, Bolivar. You needn't worry about the funds themselves. The MRD will remain fully funded by the federal government. The people are more than happy to pay for their protection."

[Of course. I don't see a problem with this change in plans so long as the funds stay steady. Is that all?]

"Not quite. The 'man' in question was without a doubt a Cybertronian employing some kind of hard-light projection. I have every reason to believe he has allied himself with the X-Men and will thus protect them and all mutants fiercely from any and all threats that come their way, including the Sentinels. I want you to upgrade them. Have them outfitted with better weapons, better armor, and alter their coding to target Cybertronians as well as mutants. If you can, specify that particular one. He's as dangerous as all the X-Men combined."

[Understood, Robert. I'll have the coders alter the MasterMold program we're working on and have them do the same to this new batch of Sentinels. I'll contact you when we've finished the latter.]

"Work swiftly."

He hung up.

* * *

_Later..._

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Lost in thought, the holo-form paced back and forth in the Cerebro chamber as he waited for his contact request to go through Soundwave's comm. buoy relay system. His fists clenched, wings held taught, he simply couldn't stay still. He was too frustrated for that. Per request to Xavier a few minutes previously, he'd been left alone in the special room even if the telepath clearly didn't agree with that choice, and frankly he was beginning to regret that decision. He felt if he didn't talk to someone about what had happened within the next minute or so he'd scream or punch a wall in.

He'd desperately hoped to convince Kelly that attacking innocent mutants, no matter the reason, was wrong, but he knew his argument had fallen on deaf ears. That man's heart was a block of iron. He'd never see past his hate. He knew that now. The Senator was a lost cause. He'd probably have been doing everyone a favor by slitting his throat. At least then the mutants might stand a fighting chance.

'_Galvatron..._' the little voice warned sternly. He could almost imagine the entity giving him a cross, reproving look.

He snarled through gritted teeth, fists clenching tighter. And still he paced back and forth, back and forth, waiting for the call to go through. Seconds ticked by in what felt to him like hours. So lost was he in his infuriated thoughts that failed to notice the black screen coming alive as the live feed finally began to trickle in at long last. He jumped in spite of himself when a deep, baritone voice inquired in mild astonishment:

"Galvatron? Is that you?"

The holo-form spun around to face the screen, wings flaring out in surprise before folding back in. Framed on the screen was a familiar red and blue mech, kindly and sympathetic blue optics examining him curiously but with a hint of worry on seeing his troubled, angry red eyes. He hadn't seen him this genuinely upset in quite a while, and his former adoptive brother was no weak spark. He only reacted over things that were truly upsetting on a massive scale. But on Earth, that might as well be anything ranging from a Carnage murder spree to Unicron coming out stasis. He had no idea what was making him so angry, though he knew it would be something major.

"...Something happened. What?"

Without a moment's hesitation he launched into a long-winded retelling of events. He told of his finding and rescue of Adaryn from a Purifier group, her rapid recovery and enrollment in the Xavier Institute where he was now located. He told of the young mutants and instructors, how accepting they had been of them when they'd first arrived the night before, how they acted like one big crazy family and drove poor Logan up the wall with their antics. Some of his anger subsided on recounting these lighter moments, but it didn't fade entirely as Optimus noted.

And then...he told of the Sentinel attack that morning, the ruthlessness of the machines, their implanted opinions of mutants as a "contamination", and the minor injuries some of the X-Men had sustained while defending themselves. Finally, he told of his meeting with Senator Kelly and how callous and cold he'd been about the whole thing. He didn't even view them as people, merely _things_ that presented a problem. His solution to that problem was "containment" as he had put it, though that could be taken any number of ways, and judging from the attack – it equaled systematic extermination to keep their numbers under control.

"They're _people_, Optimus, not rabid animals!" Galvatron hissed. "How is this even legal?! How can he get away with this?! It's _murder_! And I'm helpless to stop him! I can't do a thing! He's too high up!"

The Prime gazed at him in silence for a while as he formulated a response that wouldn't further incense him. At long last he spoke:

"I see. So that is what bothers you. Feeling unable to do anything."

Galvatron hung his head. All fight seemed to go out of him, his wings going limp and his whole color scheme fading. Then, with a scream of fury, he summoned up the energy blade and flung it blindly across the room where it impaled itself in the far wall. He stood there trying to regain control of his emotions, back turned to the screen, until the blade fizzled and vanished. He got an odd sense of humorous déjà vu when the Prime asked:

"Better?"

He permitted a small, dry smile to form, recalling that Rogers had asked Stark the same question. He shook his head, replying:

"I'd be lying if I said that it helped completely, but...slightly better, yes. I just..."

He sighed.

"I wish there was something I could do to better protect them from people like Kelly rather than just fend off his attacks and help clean up the wreckage afterwards. That seems, well, inadequate. You're permanently stuck in square one and can't get anywhere because there doesn't seem to be anywhere to go. I've hit a deadlock so to speak."

Optimus cocked one brow ridge at him in a rather enigmatic manner. "And when have you ever let deadlocks stop you?"

Galvatron tried to say something, but found he couldn't. The Prime made a good point. He wasn't one to just give up when the dark tunnel seemed without light, and the past proved it. Defeat wasn't a thing he had ever accepted – he'd just kept on going with the persistent, stubborn tenacity of a bull, never really backing down from a challenge. That stubbornness and tenacity had been why Primus had orchestrated their alliance before the War. He was the kind of mech who simply wouldn't take "No" for an answer – he'd keep at it until he won out.

And that was all he had to do here. He just had to keep on trying. Sooner or later he'd get through.

'_Very well said. Never give in to despair, child, never give up hope. If you give up hope then all is truly lost, for without it you have nothing left to fight for._'

He nodded to himself, smiling faintly at the increase of warmth the holo-form felt in its chest. He was beginning to get used to this comforting sensation, but it still left him feeling a bit awed and overjoyed when it happened. He knew he still had a long ways to go before the darkness inside him was burned away completely, but he wasn't impatient about it. The re-syncing would happen when it happened.

Optimus noticed the smile and thus smiled himself. Re-syncing such a badly severed spark was a long, slow process, but he had faith that it would be complete before long. Staying with the heroes, learning their ideals and codes of honor, seemed to be speeding the process along from all he could discern. He had the private, sneaking feeling that the cause of the waveform bursts was him learning what it meant to be a hero, and in the broader sense, re-learning how to be himself.

"Keep trying to get through to him, Galvatron. Be persistent. That is something you are exceptionally good at. You always were stubborn." Optimus reiterated, a sly twinkle in his blue optics. "And remember that you needn't do it alone. You have support to call on should you ever have need it. You are not fighting this battle alone. You seem to forget that consistently."

Galvatron bowed his head gratefully, glad that the roiling ball of frustration was beginning to secede at last. "Thank you. For listening."

"Of course."

With that, he stepped forward and terminated the call.

* * *

**Author's Note: Yup. Galvatron just threw an eloquent hissy fit at Senator Kelly. I'm thinkin' he's picked up a few speaking tips from Cap, don't ya'll think? x3 **

**Also, the guy sympathizes with mutants because they're the underdogs of the society, just as he was an underdog to start out with. He suffered abuse at the hands of a governing power and the inhabitants of a city, and so do they. Frankly he's just happy a caste system doesn't really exist in the U.S, even if there are massive gaps between rich and poor nonetheless. But in his mind, that's something more easily corrected than a caste system.**


	29. Chapter 29: The Ragin' Cajun

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 29**

* * *

Galvatron, rather than leave the Cerebro chamber to rejoin the others, chose to linger for a while, his mind a calm breeze rather than a raging gale. With all his frustration finally let out to one who had actually listened to them he felt strangely empty in terms of emotion. It wasn't empty in a bad way, rather in a good way – a comforting, calming peace had settled over the frustrated holo-form's mind. He no longer felt the need to scream aloud his vexation over the attack or the injustices mutants faced in this supposedly "free" society. He felt instead a strange sense of serenity mingled with steady, burning determination. It was...refreshing he had to admit to himself. He liked feeling like this. Anger was such a burden on the spark, and holding on to it only served to drag one down.

That was the mistake he'd made during the War. He'd held onto his anger, had fed it constantly, and it had made him an easy target for Unicron's manipulation. And he had paid a hefty price for such a mistake. He swore to himself he'd never do that again.

He looked back up at the darkened, blank video screen with longing in his red eyes. How he wished Optimus were here. The Prime was a talented speaker. He'd been able to sway the entire Council with his eloquent words, convince them of the crippling inequality presented by the caste system with one flowing, moving speech. If anyone could talk some common decency into Kelly, he was one hundred percent certain that Optimus could. But that wasn't likely to happen. Cybertron needed him desperately right now – they needed a leader, someone to help them through the difficult time of reconstruction. And frankly there was no better leader. He wasn't about to drag him away from where he was most needed.

He leaned forward onto the control panel, palms flat on the smooth metal, head down as he wondered: how in the name of the Allspark could he possibly convince the man that what he was doing was wrong? How could he persuade him to stop? He'd tried the up front approach, and that hadn't borne fruit. Maybe a petition? A protest? Go right to the President perhaps? He had to be proactive about this, but he also had to be smart, and going straight to the top might be more effective than muddling around in the lower rungs of the government.

So what to do now...?

'_Might_ _I suggest you think about it as the day passes? This issue will not be resolved in a single solar cycle, child, much as you hope it will be. I know you are impatient, and you want this resolved as quickly as possible, but it will take time. A wound as deep as this does not heal itself overnight, and you don't have a healing factor to speed the process._'

The holo-form gusted out a sigh, head and wings hanging lower. Not exactly what he was hoping for in a reply. He wanted to solve this as quickly as possible before more young mutants were harmed or killed. The poor things suffered enough trials as it was just trying to scrape out an existence around other people. It wasn't their fault they could do things normal people couldn't. Such a thing was outside their control, and they were being hunted because of it. That...that wasn't right. These blindly hating people needed to be stopped, and soon. His conscience wouldn't be able to hold the blood of innocent children on it, not now, not when he had so much of it on him already. He shuddered as he vividly remembered the deaths of all the sparklings he had caused, red eyes shutting as his vision blurred. He barely noticed his own body trembling.

Children...he'd murdered _innocent_ _children _who had no concept of violence. He had viewed them then as possible future threats and thus – he'd removed them. While he understood now those had not been his actions, that didn't remove the pain, the sheer horror of it. He had still been the one to cut short their lives. He was a murderer and he knew it. He deserved the hate, but all he got was forgiveness and kindness. The mutants deserved love and compassion, and all they got was the blind hatred of their fellow humans who saw them as freaks. If ever something needed to be reversed,_that_ did. He could take the hate. They couldn't. He deserved it. They didn't.

A little wash of sympathy passed over his mind, helping to marginally ease the anguish he was feeling. He didn't smile, though. He hurt too much for that. That was why he wanted to fix this issue quickly. His spark simply couldn't take any more losses of innocent life, burdened as it was already. He feared more loss would cause it to snap and snuff out before he was fully healed, and that wouldn't be good.

Giving another soft sigh, he turned on his heels and made his way to sealed doors, unlocking them by pressing a panel near the door frame. The doors hissed open dutifully, and he made his way out into the underground hall. He had left in a bit of a mad rush, so he wanted to see how the young mutants were faring since the attack.

* * *

The instant he stepped out into the main foyer, the very second he took one step over the threshold – he was attacked. He barely had time to register a group of weirdly look-a-like young male children rush towards him. He felt those multiple bodies collide into him and constrict him in a relieved hug while each asked questions about what he'd done, what Kelly had said, what he'd said to Kelly, and whether or not he'd given him a good sock to the jaw. Oh! and Adaryn was also really worried about him. She was driving everybody crazy with her psychic nagging.

It honestly took him a moment to realize this was Jamie, that they were _all _Jamie. He had never seen the boy's powers before, and this was a bit of a bewildering one to be frank. They weren't simple holograms or drone-like copies, as they were each clearly capable of independent thought and action, yet they all seemed to be under some sort of master control program, which he judged to be the original. They were more like fully sentient but docile projections, able to be dismissed and conjured at will – sort of like holo-forms in a way, but Jaime was capable of summoning more than one at a time, making him probably the best multi-tasker he had ever laid optics on.

"Uh..."

The Jamie copies seemed to see what the problem was, and with multiple little popping sounds they all vanished, leaving one Jaime, the original, dangling off the holo-form's neck and shoulders from behind. Carefully he bent backwards a little ways to let the boy jump down. In an instant he jumped and darted around to face him head on, eyes alight with intrigue.

"So? What happened, huh?"

Galvatron sighed, a hint of residual anger flashing in his red eyes as he replied: "Well, I told him to watch himself from now on or I'd get him arrested (I'm paraphrasing of course), but I might as well have been ranting to a brick wall. I'm fairly certain my words meant nothing to him. I'm thinking that scraplet's dealt with threats like that in the past and they've amounted to nothing, or at least he knows how to deal with them."

Jamie's shoulders sagged. "Oh. You...you didn't win the argument? So...that means more Sentinels might come?"

Even though he plainly sensed the youngling's anxiety over the prospect of another attack, Galvatron said that such might be the case. But he reassured the boy that should an attack on the Institute occur again in the near future, he would be there to help them stave off the lumbering brutes. He also said that he would contact an old ally of his and have him dredge up every dirty little secret Kelly had. If he failed to comply with the ceasefire he had requested, he would expose each and every one of them, no matter if such a course of action got him in trouble.

"Uh...you _do_ realize that's blackmail, right? And you could get in, like, _super_ big trouble for that?"

Galvatron's arms crossed. Nowhere on his face was there a hint of repentance, just grim determination and even a little bit of dark humor. Slowly but surely a little smirk formed on his lips, joined by a little twinkle of what could only be described as imp-like mischief in his red eyes. "Mmhm."

"Aaand you don't care, do you?"

"Not even a little."

At that, Jamie's mouth split into a wide grin, and then he broke out laughing. This guy was even crazier in the head than Mr. Logan! The mech was willing to outright _blackmail_ a Senator – one of the highest people in the nation's government! – in order to protect the mutants said official was discriminating against. That was a whole other level of crazy, but it was a kind of crazy he could, strangely enough, admire. That he was willing to possibly get arrested showed just how much he cared about mutants. He would go to any lengths to help them, even if it cost him. Imprisonment was, to him, a small price to pay if it meant mutants became full equals to everybody else.

While that was scarily similar to the mindset Magneto had, Galvatron's, to Jamie anyway, seemed to be driven for the right reasons. He didn't care about whether mutants ended up the head species on the planet, and he wasn't focused on securing that future dominance Magneto strived to get through outright violence. Where Magneto wanted mutants to be the alphas, Galvatron just...wanted them to fit in and get along, live normal lives among regular people, to not be afraid of being gunned down in the street because you had blue skin or horns growing out of your head. He wanted _both_sides to _co-exist _– just like the Professor did.

_That_ was where the difference was between the two. Magneto wanted mutants to be the ruling force. Galvatron just wanted everybody to stop being stupidly hateful and get along, and he was willing to risk his own reputation to get that result. His methods were also less violent. Blackmail was a far cry from purposefully attacking MRD stations or holding people hostage. He'd still get in trouble for it, but no one was being physically harmed, and that had to count for something.

"What was that about Adaryn driving every mad?" Galvatron wondered, recalling the boy's words.

"Oh! yeah. She got real worried when Jean told her you flew off – she stayed inside during the attack because, you know, she's new at this and admits she's not much of a fighter. Telepaths can't really do much against Sentinels unless they can levitate cars like Jean can. But yeah. Might wanna go find her, because I'm pretty sure she's still nagging Mr. Logan and Mrs. Ororo for answers. I gotta get back to Kitty and Rogue in the infirmary. They need an extra set of hands in there. See ya!"

Waving, the boy darted off down the hall. Just as he rounded the corner there was a cry of alarm and the sounds of a collision that was followed instantly afterwards by familiar popping noises, indicating the creation of more Jaime copies.

Galvatron sprinted forward to check on the two collision victims, finding a rather odd sight when he did. Lying on the floor looking quite dazed was Nightcrawler, and scampering to their feet were three Jamies, all of whom hastily apologized to Kurt before running off. He blinked once or twice in bewilderment. That talent of his was going to take some getting used to. He was faintly amused that Jaime apparently had very unfortunate timing. Who else could round the one corner Nightcrawler had decided to teleport to?

Taking a page out of Orion's book, he offered the mutant teleporter a hand. Kurt accepted it with his own three-fingered hand, but Galvatron didn't find the limb to be strange in any way. If anything, he found the mutant's appearance to be fascinating to no end. No other mutant resembled him, and he frankly resembled something demonic, yet behaved in no way like a monster. And he swore he recalled one of the Avengers mentioning that Kurt was a devout Catholic, so his appearance just made that part of his life harder.

"_Danke_." Kurt thanked him in his native German. "Sometimes I seriously wonder whether Jamie will _ever_ stop running into things and duplicating himself. It's become a bit of a running gag around here. Forge's threatened to tie a proximity alert beacon onto him, but he's never done it." He chuckled softly. "And with you here, he'll probably never get around to it."

Galvatron cocked one eyebrow. "...Did you just call me a distraction, Wagner? Should I pack up and leave then?"

Kurt laughed, winking playfully. Then, in a sulfurous smelling cloud of blue smoke, he vanished.

He rolled his eyes and snorted. Teleporters.

* * *

A few hours passed without major incident, the most happening being Kurt playing a massive game of cat and mouse turned tag with Adaryn throughout the building as he taught the lanky girl some much needed physical endurance, turning the training session into something fun if ever so slightly irritating to her. Playing cat and mouse with a teleporter was no walk in the park, especially when said teleporter knew the territory far better than she did.

Galvatron, along with the other adults, kept a watch on the game as they wandered the halls. Every so often they would stumble across Kurt clinging to the ceiling like some absurd gecko, the blue-furred mutant putting a finger to his lips to ensure no freebie finds. And, far more frequently, Adaryn would rush past them in a blur of white hair and grey wings, panting and sweating from the workout. At one point they even found her collapsed on the floor of the foyer with the most perfect "I-give-up" look any of them had seen.

"_Any_ of you laugh, I _swear_ I will give you _nightmares_ for a _week_." warned the girl.

They wisely said nothing and retreated.

The alien was just beginning to grow marginally restless and bored when something finally happened: the acting X-Men were summoned to the Cerebro chamber. It took the mutants less than five minutes to gather there.

"What's up, Professor? MRD? More Sentinels?" Scott wondered.

Professor Xavier shook his head, saying neither was a current problem for the city. He had called them here for another, yet not so entirely separate reason. It seemed that an old friend of Rogue's, Remmy, was in need of assistance, having stolen something from an MRD research lab in Louisiana. As of right now he was being hunted through the streets and bayous of New Orleans, and while he knew the neighborhoods like the backs of his own hands, he couldn't keep up the game for much longer. As he'd described it, they were "gettin' damn well close to catchin' him like a cornered rat."

"Hmph. Should've known Gambit couldn't keep his hands off the Mardies' stuff." Wolverine snorted.

Galvatron asked something more to the point, for the moment ignoring the question of who this Gambit character was other than a talented thief: "Any idea what it is he stole from them?"

"No. He did not elaborate in his message." Xavier replied. "Though knowing Mr. Le Beau it is most likely something dangerous in the wrong hands."

Jean nodded sharply. "Then we rendezvous with him in New Orleans and take him and the item into safe keeping. Whatever he stole, the MRD want it back – badly. And that can't mean anything good."

Forge took the hint and darted out of the room towards the hangar. While Rogue, Angel, Nightcrawler, Jean, Scott, Shadowcat, Wolverine, and Storm suited up, he'd get the Blackbird ready for launch. And then pray non-stop to every cosmic entity he could possibly think of that Logan didn't wreck it like he usually did. He'd just finished tuning it up after the _last_ beating...

* * *

They arrived in New Orleans airspace within only a few hours. The Blackbird was guided to land in a nearby private airstrip owned by an ally of Gambit's. Galvatron contented himself to circle the city from above until the others met up with him, holding out the hope that he might just lay optics on the mutant thief. Even in the middle of the day, heat, humidity and all, the city below was a tapestry of color and sound that left him slightly bewildered. It was like the whole city was one massive, unending party.

If New York was the city that never slept, New Orleans was the city that was never silent.

He flew away from the bustling downtown sector to give his senses a bit of a break and was stunned to find whole neighborhoods in ruins, abandoned by their former occupants. His spark skipped a pulse at the eerie sight that so frightfully resembled Cybertron's own battered cities. What had done this? An attack? Or something else?

'_Hurricane Katrina._' Jean's voice echoed in reply. '_Category three hurricane that swept over the city about ten years ago. Over a thousand people died in the storm and ensuing floods, and the property damage was immense. Practically the whole city was underwater at one point. They've been trying to rebuild ever since, but it's been really tough going for them. Some parts I think are doomed to remain that way. They just don't have the resources or funding to do much. FEMA kinda botched everything up._'

"Ah. My condolences."

He was silent for a while as he circled the ravaged areas, shocked to know that a simple terrestrial storm of water and wind could be so deadly. Over a thousand lives lost to the monster storm...How many of them had been under twenty? How many had been children? Ten years, and barely any progress had been made.

On receiving a ping from Cyclops that they were all waiting for him in the French Quarter, he banked around and headed back towards the city, mind and thoughts somber as he left the storm-torn neighborhoods behind.

* * *

Galvatron considered himself lucky that the people of the French Quarter weren't scared at seeing a massive alien aircraft hovering over the streets, in particular hovering over a group of well-known mutant warriors. A promising portion of passerby either didn't care about the truly bizarre scene or actively waved. However, he still angrily noted the wary glances that some passerby were giving the X-Men, and yet none of those glances were tossed in his direction – oh, maybe one or two but those made up the vast minority.

"Any word from Gambit yet?" Rogue asked, expression nervous. Wolverine silently rolled his eyes.

He noted this with some amusement. Was there perhaps a hint of romance between them? It seemed so. And Logan was gruffly playing the part of the protective father. Well, either that or Logan just didn't like the guy. Probably the latter considering what he knew of him. Wolverine didn't like thieves. Go figure.

Jean focused for a moment as her mind reached out into the masses. She looked ready to shake her head in defeat, but then her eyes lit up.

"Yeah! He's in one of the bars. The Chart Room. Come on!"

The mutants broke into a run, weaving through the crowds with skill while he followed from above. He was a bit confused that Warren and Jean, rather than take to the skies, chose instead to run alongside their friends. Galvatron could only assume this was to help keep a low profile and not cause any "issues" with the locals by openly using their powers in heavily populated sectors.

They reached the old building in question quickly, but the sight they saw outside was not a promising one.

Loitering at the door and questioning exiting patrons were five MRD officers. And then they saw the X-Men. Luckily, none of them bothered to look up.

"X-Men! They're here for their friend! Stop 'em!"

Sounds of clanking gears rang in the ears of both sides, and then a thud nearly threw them all off their feet as a titan of metal landed in between them, blocking the officers' advance as effectively as a titanium wall. Civilians wisely retreated as the titan stood to its full height, casting a long shadow that covered the suddenly wary opposition, its burning red eyes giving them a warning to back off.

"Wha? Since when've they got a 'Bot helping them?!" cried one of the officers, the assault rifle in his hands trembling slightly.

"Since I decided that mutants need protecting from ignorant, hateful little scraplets like you." Galvatron snarled. "That's when."

"Colonel Moss? Orders?" another, calmer officer asked.

Colonel Moss, a tall, muscular man in his late forties who bore a scar across one eye, considered for a moment. His men weren't trained to battle an alien the size of a small building, and it clearly wasn't joking about its threat. He cared little about the civilians – they were collateral damage in his mind. But it was also allied with the X-Men, who were priority targets, especially Wolverine. He didn't want to endanger his men, but he also didn't want to fail in his mission. Gambit had stolen a prototype power dampener from the MRD. It was his assignment to get it back to its rightful owners.

"Open fire!"

Galvatron barely flinched at the hundreds of bullets striking his armor, slamming a pede down and staggering the shooters. Honestly, would these humans never learn?

Nightcrawler reacted like lightning at this opening, teleporting in a blur and grabbing their guns right out of their hands. Wolverine charged forwards, claws retracted, zeroing in on the Colonel and instigating a savage brawl. Rogue darted forward, singled out an officer, and quickly touched him on the forehead, the man going rigid and then falling unconscious. The mimic then joined her allies with new-found strength stolen from her target. Storm and Phoenix forced the other officers into a cage of lightning so Cyclops could blast them all at once, Kitty grabbing a stubborn straggler from underground and sticking him halfway into the cement.

"Stand back, all of you!" Cyclops warned. His visor flared.

Less than a second later a ruby beam of energy just wide enough to encompass the lightning cage. The beam blasted through the electrical bars and slammed into the trapped officers with the force of a charging bull, knocking them to the ground and rendering them unconscious. Jean took care of the straggler stuck in the pavement with a low-powered telepathic pulse that sent him spiraling into unconsciousness in an instant.

Moss, on seeing his squadron out of action, backed away from Wolverine with a snarl of outrage. Logan drove his loss home with a well timed punch to his face, the man staggering from the powerful blow. Then, out of nowhere, a playing card fluttered towards him, glowing and sparking with energy. Wolverine reacted faster, swearing hoarsely and diving out of the way.

_KA-BOOM!_

The Colonel was knocked back by the miniature explosion. When he another card came whizzing towards him, he fled, Storm calling down a bolt of lighting to give him incentive to stay away.

A slow, almost sarcastic sounding clap met the ears and audials of the victorious. Standing under the cool shadows of the Chart Room's entryway, red eyes easily seen in the darkness, was a tall man in a dark red and blue uniform covered by a brown trench coat. In one hand he held what looked like a tech collar. In the other was held a metal staff which he twirled once.

"Still haven't been able to drill some subtlety into these guys, eh, Rogue?"

Rogue smiled. "Gambit!"


	30. Chapter 30: Missing Mutants

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 30**

* * *

The figure under the awning's shadow emerged whilst emitting a suave chuckle. He twirled the staff once and it retracted into a small bar that he slipped into one his trench coat's deep pockets. His other hand still diligently gripped the unusual tech collar tightly. Calm and unflappable as Gambit appeared at first glance, everyone knew he was paying close attention to his surroundings. Much as Logan disliked the smooth-tongued thief as a bad influence on Rogue, he had to appreciate how aware he was of everything that went on around him.

Was Gambit a thief? Yes. Was he an exceptionally talented one? Absolutely.

Galvatron personally was curious about the man – namely his appearance. He bore no X-Man badge anywhere on his body yet judging by his black-rimmed red eyes and exploding playing cards thrown into the fray he appeared to be one them: a mutant who helped others. Why then did he have no crest? And why did Logan not look too thrilled to see him? From that frown of his it looked as if the two had a bit of a rocky history.

Gambit looked up at the towering grey titan, one eyebrow raising on seeing the spark of interest in his red optics. Hm. Rogue had mentioned the alien had hopped teams to give the X-Men a helping hand. According to her, such a decision had come after he had rescued a young oddity of a telepath close to the Avengers' base. Poor thing had been chased by Purifiers so she had told him. He had scared the extremists off and spirited her away to safety. For a formerly violent warlord with a blood lust to rival Sabertooth's, that was surprisingly noble of him.

"So? You're letting non-mutants into your little club now, are you?" teased the thief. He was pleased to note the towering titan give him an amusedly sarcastic look.

"Honorary team member, technically." Forge clarified. "Well, more like 'protector'. And it's not like we were about to turn down the chance to have a super powerful alien give us a hand. You should've seen what he did to the Sentinels that attacked the Institute. He was a one mech army!"

Logan's frown deepened. "Back to the point. The thing you stole, Le Beau. We'll be taking it now. Hand it over."

Gambit sighed comically: "Must you always be so blunt?"

"Give it."

"Oh, very well. Honestly, would it kill you to say please once in a while?"

With exaggerated care the tech collar was handed over to Wolverine. It was then passed to Forge who looked it over with a keen eye before darting off in the general direction of the Blackbird to further analyze it in the safety of the jet's interior. Galvatron emitted a faint snort of amusement at the thought of Forge running all the way to the little airfield at the edge of the city, knowing full well the young man would keel over exhausted about half way there. Like Agent Fitz, the mutant was tech support and not exactly well muscled – though he had to admit Forge was slightly better built than the lanky Fitz.

Catching up to him in a single stride, he plucked Forge off the ground with two digits, then dropped him into his open palm.

"Need a lift?"

* * *

They made it back to the Blackbird without encountering resistance of any kind, though it did take a bit of work on Forge's part to keep Galvatron from getting distracted by all the activity going on in the streets below during the flight. They did curiously enough pass over what looked like a parade only to then spot the shining black hearse being carried. Forge kept him on track with the promise to have Rogue or Gambit explain later as he had little to no experience of the culture in this area. Despite a low thrumming of the sentient aircraft's engine that signaled resistance borne of curiosity, it continued onwards.

On arrival at the little private airfield, he thanked the alien for the ride and then hopped out of the cockpit and rushed inside the sleek black jet to begin his analysis of the strange tech collar, leaving the great grey and black aircraft to wait for him to either emerge once again or wirelessly report his findings. He was just as curious to know what the thing was designed to do. The MRD had made it so it obviously couldn't be anything good for mutants. He had faith in Forge's abilities.

He also had to give credit to Gambit for stealing it from what he could only assume was a well-guarded lab somewhere in the state's confines, and coming out none the worse for wear from all indications. Logan may not like the man...but he was talented all the same. He had known some skilled thieves before and during the War, but none quite so competent.

[Hey, Galv?]

"Yes?"

[I think I found out what this thing does. It's some sort of mutant power dampener. Crude but powerful.]

Galvatron's spark skipped a pulse. "You mean any mutant who wears that collar loses the use of their abilities?"

[Seems that way.] Forge confirmed grimly. [Galv, if they mass produce these alongside Kelly's Mutant Registration Act, not to mention the Sentinels being an ever looming threat to mutants everywhere now...Hell, at this rate we might as well write our own epitaphs. They don't just want us controlled – they want us extinct.]

His engine growled. He wouldn't let that happen. So long as he was allied with the X-Men he would do his utmost to keep mutants from harm, whether it be political attack, MRD raids and assaults, or Purifier "cleansings". Deep down he knew such a mission was almost foolhardy in scope, as he as only one mech, and this planet's population well exceeded seven billion individuals, an indeterminate fraction of which were mutants or would become mutants...but that would not keep him from trying. It sure would help if he had some sort of outside assistance...

'_I told you I would do whatever I could to assist, Galvatron. And I meant what I said. But it has to remain indirect lest my brother detect my actions and attempt to circumvent them in some way. This is an issue that must be taken a step at a time. If you try to resolve this any faster you are in danger losing any progress already made. I do appreciate your desire to help them in as many ways as you can, but let me remind you that there you run the risk of spreading yourself too thin. You do not have the advantage of an army here. Focus on and do what you can on the home front before branching further afield. Don't let your emotions impair your sense of reason, least of all your anger. That was what made you a target for Unicron the last time._'

"Hm." He didn't like it but he had to appreciate that the deity made a point.

* * *

MUTANT RESPONSE DIVISION FIELD BASE OMEGA  
LOCATION: [REDACTED]

Colonel Moss barged into the little field base in the bayous outside the city, boots caked in mud and sporting a few impressive bruises from his brawl with Wolverine. The three young officers on guard at the command center's heavy titanium doors started at the sight of their superior's unsightly appearance, but they were more worried about his rapidly reddening face and the budding vein on his forehead. Though it was by no means unusual to see Moss upset, this was the first time they'd seen him look downright murderous.

"You!" snarled the colonel sharply at one of the young officers. "Get me Trask on the line. Now!"

The officer nodded and swiftly set to work opening a secure channel to the head of the MRD's science division back in New York. Within moments the small high definition computer screen came to life, Trask himself visible on the receiving end of the transmission.

"Moss? What the devil's wrong with you?"

Moss slammed his hands down onto the table enough to rattle some of the items laying there. Outraged at the dark-skinned man's calm demeanor, he snapped angrily: "What's wrong? What's wrong is that you neglected to tell me that the X-Men are being aided by a damned Cyber of all things! My men could've been killed today! So thanks to your negligence your precious little science experiment's in the hands of mutants now!"

Trask looked mildly surprised. "Am I to understand that you failed in your simple retrieval mission, Colonel?"

"What do you think?" Moss hissed. "The only human organization that's taken down a Cyber is MECH due to numbers and experience, and they're in shambles right now. How much of a chance do you think I stood with a squad of a dozen men and women trained to fight mutants?"

Trask's expression, rather than become irate, morphed into one of deep thought. The Cybertronian allied with the X-Men was nothing new, but MECH being in shambles was news to him. The last time he had heard of them they had disappeared under the radar for reasons unknown very soon after the federal government had begun to clamp down on their activities. Normally well-organized but deeply uncooperative with outsiders, the group might conceivably be taken advantage of in such a state. Without Cylas, portions of MECH might be integrated into the Mutant Response Division to better combat the Cybertronian warrior protecting them. Much as he admired the mechanical aliens he himself knew next to nothing about them, thus making his reprogramming of the Sentinels all the harder. What he needed to program them was more information, more detailed data – and MECH was a veritable gold mine of information about Cybertronians, not to mention quite skilled in robotics...

"You need not concern yourself with the collar, Colonel. It was merely a prototype, one of two, and it can do no harm in the mutants hands. The collar was designed to dampen their abilities, so they cannot use it against us. I would have warned you about the alien but I half-expected him to stay in New York. Be that as it may, this news of MECH being in disarray is most...interesting. It fosters ideas."

"Such as?"

The man on the screen managed a thin smile. "Ah, that is best not to say over an open channel. I will ask you this: how do you feel about a second mission – New York this time?"

* * *

By the time Forge was finished with his analysis of the collar the other X-Men had gathered outside the Blackbird waiting for an update. Galvatron was mildly surprised to find Gambit among the group, though he still bore no crest, and Logan was still busy frowning at him. Gambit didn't appear to mind the man's frowning, smiling back in a disarming, pleasant-scoundrel way that resulted in Rogue stifling her giggles as best she could.

It didn't take much knowledge of human behavior to know that Gambit was doing this on purpose just to irritate Wolverine. If he didn't think the man was capable of holding his own against Logan he would have happily labeled him as insane. As it was he was acting quite like Clint did. He found it hard to decide whether to praise Gambit's bravery or laugh at Wolverine's insistent anger. There was a history there for certain – and probably not a very pretty one by all accounts. Whatever that history was it clearly revolved around Rogue.

"So you find what the thing is?" Kurt asked.

Forge quickly explained. Jean, Scott, and Kitty's eyes widened. Storm tensed.

"We need to get this back to the Institute for safe keeping. The MRD can't get their hands on it." Scott insisted.

Storm eyed him. "Won't they just rebuild it? If they made this power dampener device once they can probably build it again."

"Not necessarily. If we find the place that manufactured it and sabotage the construction notes, the MRD are back to square one," Forge said. "Thing is, I dunno where this was made. Gambit? Where'd you steal this thing from exactly? You said an MRD station but as far as I know Louisiana is MRD free. They're pro-mutant."

Gambit smirked knowingly, hinting: "Get in that jet o' yours and I'll point out the place for ya."

* * *

It was right when everyone was getting belted into their seats that the Blackbird's klaxon began sounding. Red emergency lights flared as Forge, panic-stricken, tried to figure out what the problem was. Nothing appeared to be wrong with the ship itself which meant the klaxon was being caused by something outside the aircraft. When he finally did, his face went deathly white.

It was an SOS. And it was coming from the Institute.

"Oh no..."

The mutant techie opened a channel to the other aircraft idling beside them:

"Galv! The kids! The school's under attack! MRD and Sentinels!"

None of the passengers heard Galvatron swear creatively. He should've known their luck wouldn't last. The MRD officer who had fled the scene must've called in and relayed to the rest of the organization that the senior, experienced X-Men were away from home, the only resistance at the school being much younger mutants still getting the handle of their powers. They were attacking the Institute while it as vulnerable – striking while the iron was hot as the humans said; devious but intelligent, a tactic any self-respecting strategist would employ.

[Go with Gambit. Find where the collar was made and ensure they can't go making more. I'll get Ratchet to groundbridge me back.]

"But –" Storm tried to argue. That was all she managed before she was cut off.

[_GO!_] Galvatron snapped.

Seconds later came the sound of Galvatron's engine screaming into high gear as he rocketed into the skies. Not even a minute afterwards the Blackbird lifted off the small runway and headed into the state's interior, her pilot and passengers unable to do anything but pray that the alien got there in time, and that the kids could hold out until then.

* * *

HANGAR E  
AREA FIFTY-ONE, NEVADA

At seven in the evening local time, Hangar E was quiet – something Ratchet could sincerely appreciate and abhor at the same time. The only other people in the re-purposed hangar were Rafael and Nurse Darby. Fowler was off site at the moment dealing with General Bryce over some matter or other concerning only Primus knew what. With so few distractions his processor could work unhindered, but such productive silence also gave it time to brood on other subjects in the meantime – like the sudden call his old friend had sent.

Optimus had reported in a few hours previously to report on Galvatron. Some of the news was good and some of the news wasn't. Hearing he'd team swapped was not all that surprising to him. The miner Orion had met all those centuries ago was a restless spark who never stayed in one place for too long. He had left the Avengers for the X-Men thanks in part to that selfsame restlessness and in part to his rescue of a young mutant girl who had been hunted by some extremist group. Hearing that he'd quickly made friends with the mutants at the Institute was even more lightening - well he recalled the happy contentment in the Prime's voice as he'd said that.

But hearing of an attack on the Institute by towering robots called Sentinels, built by the MRD and designed to kill mutants? Such grim news had made his spark clench. The mutants and their new protector had dealt with the incursion, but Galvatron's failed attempt at diplomacy with Senator Kelly, the official in charge of the organization, was worrying.

"_I am worried this may be a long, difficult uphill battle battle he is fighting on their behalf. What concerns me further is that there may be no true victory for either side. In the end, they may simply have to call a stalemate and resolve this through compromise. And the Senator does not seem the sort to compromise on such matters." _Optimus had told him.

He continued to reminisce on the conversation, mulling over the information. He soon was lost in a thought. Then the comm. system crackled to life like a firework going off. He jumped in spite of his best efforts. June started as well at the sudden noise.

[Ratchet! Get me back to New York! Now!] barked a panicked, slightly raspy voice.

The medic blinked. "What in...? Galvatron? What's going on? Where are you?"

In reply, a set of geographic coordinates popped up on his console. What in the name of the Allspark was the mech doing so far south? And why did his telemetry data show him moving at his maximum speed? Taken together, something clearly wasn't right.

[The Institute's under attack! MRD and Sentinels! Get me back! The children are in danger!]

June overheard this statement. Her eyes widened. She too had heard of the first attack but another one so soon was alarming. Kelly was stepping up his game. Unless it wasn't the Senator calling the shots this time around...But then who was giving orders to this attack squad? And how many Sentinels did the MRD even have in operation right now to afford this second attack?

Ratchet reacted in a flash, keying in the coordinates of the hangar while at the same time locking on to Galvatron's fast-moving signal. Much as he wanted to, the medic couldn't simply transport him straight to his destination. One end of the portal was always set at "home base". That was just how groundbridges functioned. As much of a panic-stricken hurry the other mech must be in, he couldn't do it any other way, and it would take a moment or two to re-set the target coordinates – just enough time to sneak a scan and see how well his condition was healing.

"Galvatron, slow down. I'm opening a groundbridge now."

He watched as the telemetry data's values lowered. Satisfied, the medic yanked down on the groundbridge lever. The portal yawned open just outside the hangar obediently, the opening facing towards it. Almost instantly a great grey and black form shot out, transformed, and skidded to a halt right at the hangar's entrance. Galvatron righted himself and proceeded to cast the medic a look that he had no other description for but terrified and anxious, field more agitated than he could recall.

June tried her best to soothe the agitated alien. "Calm down. Let Ratchet reset the portals, okay? It'll only take a second or two. I'm pretty sure the kids can hold out for that much longer. Remember, they're not entirely helpless. They've got powers, and they do have _some _training. The school's got automated defenses as well if I remember right."

She was happy to note the anxious terror in his red optics subside somewhat. But judging by the tenseness of his whole body he was still on edge. She understood his concern. The MRD weren't lenient towards mutants. Neither were those robotic nightmares – the Sentinels. If anyone wound up hurt in this second attack he'd no doubt consider he himself was to blame, seeing it as his allotted task to keep all within the Institute's walls safe from harm.

"Done." Ratchet reported. He counted on the other mech not knowing the double meaning of the word.

There was a roar as the groundbridge portal reopened with the new destination. The mech didn't waste a second. Like a flash of dark lightning Galvatron transformed again and vanished inside, unawares that the thoughts of the two healers mirrored his own.

If anyone had been hurt in this raid, if any of the children had suffered injuries at the hands of an MRD officer or Sentinel...there would be hell to pay. Uncertain as he was, there was one thing he knew with assurance: Kelly's days of physically bullying mutants were numbered. One more injury and he'd sic Soundwave on him. Oh yes he would. He'd have him dredge up every bad deed he'd ever done. And damn the consequences. He'd had just about enough of this.

For once, the little voice in his helm did not reprimand him.

* * *

The sight that met the mech when he rocketed out of the mid-air groundbridge confounded him utterly – confounded and relieved him. It wasn't what he had been expecting to find. At all.

Below him lay the wreckage of half a dozen Sentinels and their smaller insectoid counterparts – the Prowlers. Some bore what looked like bullet holes, yet there was no smell of gunpowder. Patches of ice and electrical scorch marks pocketed the turf. Guns lay scattered about on the ground like lethal decorations, almost all of them bent, broken, or sliced in half as if by a razor's edge – the only evidence of the MRD soldiers. Had they fled? Or had they been defeated? The automated defenses appeared not to have activated for one reason or another, which confused him even further. Obviously human combatants had engaged the invading forces. But how? These were students, not experienced senior members!

Further adding to his confusion was an unusual low frequency buzz-like hum in his spark that he was unable to account for. Never had he felt something quite like it before. What was it? And what was causing it?

He continued to circle, searching for signs of life. On finding no one outside he touched down and hailed the Institute's communication frequency persistently.

"Is anyone alive in there? Answer me!"

Fear gripped his spark in the ensuing minute of silence. Then:

[Galvatron?] came a voice. A very familiar voice that was young, raspy, and naturally cautious. [That you, pal?]

He didn't hold back his smile and a bark of relieved laughter. He'd recognize that unique voice anywhere. Winter Soldier! That meant the entirety of Ghost Recon were no doubt either invisibly scouting the grounds for further intruders or walled up inside the building itself as ghostly watchdogs protecting the students. That low buzz was probably Primus's way of hinting as such. Either the deity was searching for them himself or helping him locate them.

Some of the evidence now made sense. The sliced guns – the handiwork of Mirage's serrated knives, and the bullet holes were from Cliffjumper's guns. And that ice and the scorch marks? Clear evidence of Magma, Berserker, and Ice-Man. They'd fought back. Judging by the state of some of the Prowlers, they'd seemed to have won, too. Yet another good sign.

Taken together, all that seemed to indicate the children were safe. Winter Soldier wouldn't allow them to hurt; neither would Ghost Recon.

"It's me. The children – are they alright? I came here as fast as possible."

[So did we. Jazz picked up on the distress call while scouring all the main frequencies. He does that when he gets "bored". We managed to drive them off, but...] Barnes trailed off then, seemingly hesitant to go any further.

Galvatron didn't like the hesitation so suddenly evident in the man's tone. The earlier fear started creeping back into his spark, tightening around it. Something was wrong. And he had the sinking suspicion he would not be liking the answer to his question of: "Barnes? What happened?"

[We...didn't get here soon enough. That distress call came at the last second. Adaryn, Rahne, Jamie, and Jubilee were captured. We don't know where they've taken them. They're...just gone. I've had 'Warp scouring the city top to bottom with a fine-toothed comb but he can't find 'em so far. No trace. We all tried. I tried. But they were here and gone before we got here. By the time Skywarp got here the MRD had up and left with the four kids.]

The mech swear he felt his spark stop pulsing for a second or two.

* * *

**Author's Note: God this is so late! Blame finals. :P But now that winter break is here I can get back into the lovely abyss of binge writing. x3 Also, gonna be starting a little talk series on YouTube about Asperger's to help educate people as to what it is and what it's like to have it. I just feel like doing something like that. LOL.**


	31. Chapter 31: An Investigative Alliance

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 31**

* * *

Personally the mech standing frozen on the Institute's grounds felt he should've seen this coming. Any good tactician made use of a force's outright absence or a division among their ranks. The Mutant Response Division had done just that. Without the senior X-Men to defend their base of operations, the Division had been able to storm the castle with their Sentinels. Despite Ghost Recon's arrival towards the end and the ensuing securing of the building, the invading force had still managed to capture a handful of mutant students before withdrawing.

"...This is my fault. I should have stayed. I could've stopped this. This wouldn't have happened if I'd been here to defend them..." rasped the mech hoarsely.

'_Galvatron, this is far from your fault. You could not have foreseen that this would happen. After the Division's loss of so many Sentinels during their recent attack it is understandable that no one __–__ not even you __–__ would expect another so soon. I did not even anticipate it. This is not like the MRD. They are not hasty as evident here. In my opinion they ran a tremendous risk in attacking the Institute after their previous loss._'

A growl escaped the mech's vocalizer as he snapped: "No, don't you get it?! I should've seen this coming! It's a tactic _I_ used during the War! That's...that's how..."

He couldn't get the rest of the sentence out: that this was a similar tactic to the one he had used to single Jazz out towards the end of the War. And kill him.

His helm hung, self-loathing lacing through his still severed spark. He had let his emotions hinder his sense of reasoning, and the children had paid the price for his blunder. Just like Jazz, his desire to help had rendered him blind to possible dangers. He swore to himself that he would never make that mistake again. There was just too much at stake when it came to mutants. A blind fool – that's what he was. A blind fool. He could only pray that if and when the children were found that they would forgive him for not being there to protect them.

Right at that moment, something grabbed hold of that serpent of self-hate he was feeding and dragged it off, replacing it with a gentle tendril of sympathy and understanding that wrapped around his weakened soul. Some of his emotional agony simply melted away at the gentle warmth the kindly presence emitted. A barely audible sigh escaped.

'_I know you feel horrible for all that you did in the past. I know you feel foolish for falling for your own trap in a sense. But Jazz does not despise you for what you did. And I rather doubt the children will despise you for this. So stop with this assault on your conscience. You need not worry so profusely about the taken. The Division may be ruthless but they are not murderers. That would cause too many problems with S.H.I.E.L.D and the official spectrum. That's not to mention it would garner the full attention of Magneto __–__ something the Purifiers have idiotically managed thanks to their wanton slaughter.'_

The mech managed a slight nod. The Purifiers were next on his crazy-groups-to-shut-down list. After seeing firsthand what they did to mutants via the Scottish teen Adaryn he was bound and determined to disband the fanatical group.

'_Agreed. But that is another matter for another time, child. Focus on the issue at hand._ _Magneto can scare them into submission for the time being. He's been quite successful at it so far. I'm sure he can continue to do so until this matter is resolved. If you ask him nicely he might even be willing to help with this. I rather doubt it, but it might be worth asking._'

Giving another nod he set off in search of Winter Soldier and his spectral squadron. If anyone had leads he could follow, they did. Along with the children that had not been captured. Information gathering was first off. Once he had some leads, then the hunt would begin.

And if he found the children with so much as one scratch on their bodies there would be hell to pay. The MRD deserved no mercy for what they done. Kidnapping normal people was one thing, but mutants was another matter entirely. By government officials no less! It was pre-War Cybertron all over again.

* * *

Galvatron found Ghost Recon waiting for him in the underground hangar with the junior X-Men. From the looks of things Barnes and Jazz had already done some preliminary questioning of the students. Whether or not that had borne fruit he couldn't tell at a glance. Winter Soldier and Mirage looked troubled whereas the younglings still looked understandably shaken from the attack, though with help from the ever cheerful Skywarp that seemed to be a temporary problem soon mended. Already some of the frowns had been lifted by his friendly behavior – and some additional help from Cliffjumper.

That the children were still able to smile after their friends had been taken gave him hope. It tallied with Primus's belief that the MRD hadn't killed them.

Conversations slowed and voices died away as they all took notice of the towering grey titan now arriving on the scene. Amara was the first of the mutants to react, darting towards the alien in a brisk jog.

"Amara?" Roberto wondered.

The mutant Brazilian halted at the mech's pedes. Her dark brown eyes met his glowing red ones.

"You must help find them, Galvatron. _Por __favor __–_ only you can help us. The MRD may not be Purifiers but that doesn't lessen their cruelty towards mutants. If anything is makes them worse. They're allowed to get away with stuff like this."

She jerked instinctively when the titan knelt down. Any subconscious fear she may have felt vanished when one of the mech's giant fingers rested lightly on her shoulder. She put her own hands against the warm metal, absorbing the comfort he was offering. For a giant renowned in the past for his violent nature he was proving himself as kind and gentle, always ready to lend a hand to whomever needed it. In a way, he was like a darker version of Optimus Prime himself.

"I will. Don't worry. But I need information. I can't work with nothing."

"We didn't see anything." Cannonball offered glumly. "We split up with Jubilee's group thinking that might confuse them long enough to regroup. Ray and I told them to meet us at the Cerebro chamber with the Professor. That's the safest place in the whole building. When they never showed up we just knew, but we all stayed until the sounds stopped. When we came out Winter Soldier and Ghost Recon were waiting for us. They told us that...that the others had been taken."

Galvatron eyed the mutant younglings sympathetically. It was clear that some of them felt responsible for their friends' disappearance. But in his opinion they had done the only feasible things possible. Splitting up to confuse pursuers was a good strategy in most cases. That had been Optimus's plan after Omega One had been blown to kingdom come: split up and regroup once the Decepticons had been put off their scent. It had worked in that particular instance – but at a hefty price of the Prime nearly losing his life in the process. Here, splitting up had merely played into the hands of the waiting MRD officers. He knew they weren't dead, but that did little to help calm the worried children.

Still. That wasn't much information to go on. He needed more.

He turned to the assassin nearby. "Does the building have security cameras? Motion detectors? Anything like that?"

"Trust me, Jazz already tried that route. Some sort of electromagnetic pulse – probably from one of the Sentinels – knocked out most of the electronics in the building. That's why the automated defenses didn't work and some of the kids went out to try and drive them back. Only the sub-levels are hooked up to a secondary system which is why they didn't get blown out by the EMP. Jazz managed to get them back up in the end, but not soon enough to keep everyone here. The MRD had got what they wanted by then and had left."

"Hm. Unfortunate. So we have no leads to follow."

"Maybe once the others get back Logan can try tracking them?" Amara suggested. "Rahne – Wolfsbane – could've done it, but she's one of the missing. Unless...could you do it?" She glanced up at the mech curiously.

Galvatron shook his helm, reluctantly explaining that while his senses were greater than a normal human's they lacked the hypersensitivity of a mutant tracker. And that was if they weren't already in the horrid state that they were in now. If his tracking systems were functioning properly he _might_ be able to attempt it, but with them utterly useless there was no point in even trying. All they would wind up with was disappointment. And that wasn't to mention there were ways to baffle a mutant tracker, even one as skilled as Logan – especially since the MRD had experience with him.

"So we've got nothing. Zip. Nadda. Dead end." Berserker summed up flatly. "What are we supposed to do? If we've got nothin' to follow, how are we supposed to find the others?"

Silence reigned in the hangar for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was only about a minute and a half. That was when Bobbie broke the silence.

"I know we were told not to involve non-mutants in this 'cause of political crap, but what if we called in an assist from one of the other teams or solos? If we keep this on the down low they won't have to deal with the backlash. Well, I mean, there might be backlash no matter what happens but at least it won't be a train wreck. Every team and solo has to deal with some of the political bullcrap going on 'cause they're technically vigilantes."

'_Hm. The boy makes an interesting case. Hear him out._'

"Did you have any team or solo in particular in mind?" Galvatron asked.

Ice-Man looked up at him. "Well, yeah. The Avengers. I mean, you're technically a member and they obviously like you. Plus they've already got dealings with mutants thanks to Adaryn. Yeah, that was Purifiers and this is MRD, but I think they'd jump at the chance to help find her and the others. They're the ones who most often deal with political stupidity so they're kinda used to it – not that I'm saying that's a good thing, but at least they can handle it if the shinola hits the fan. And they've got resources we don't."

The mech started in realization at what Bobbie was suggesting. His red optics widened. "Stark's satellite network! Of course! If their software could be upgraded to work in conjunction with Cerebro's mutant finding capabilities...that would enable the whole planet to be scanned at once! That's brilliant! But will it work though? Are the two devices even compatible with each other? One _does _require a telepath in order to function. The other is quite simply a network, one without the need of a biological key."

"No idea. Worth a try though, right? And hey, if that doesn't work out, we could always ask Mr. Russell."

"Who?"

"Y'know – Werewolf by Night."

It was all Galvatron could do not to flinch.

* * *

Before giving his previous team mates a call, Galvatron and the other younglings headed for Beast's lab. Professor Xavier had said he would meet them all there since he was the one to design Cerebro. If anyone would know how the device worked, its builder would. Once they understood how it worked they would call Stark and see if he might be willing to lend a hand. And like Bobbie had said, if this train of thought didn't pan out like they all hoped it would, they would resort to less technical means.

On the other side of things, Ghost Recon had left to scour the city for possible eyewitnesses and clues. MRD vehicles were common sights in the streets of the city, but perhaps someone out there had seen something that might give the searchers a lead as to where this particular squad had gone. The Professor had offered to link their minds with his for faster reports, but Barnes had declined. Galvatron had noticed the assassin had seemed very hesitant about the idea, even scared. He had a feeling he knew the reason why. Barnes's mind wasn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows, and he probably didn't want to scar the telepath for life during the link up.

The mech felt such fear was unfounded. Xavier had gotten inside his mind a few times since his arrival and nothing bad had come of it. And his mind was far darker, his hands even bloodier.

He mulled over the question of Barnes's hesitation as he listened to the Professor explain how Cerebro functioned. It seemed as if the device locked onto a unique bio-energy the x-gene emitted when it was used. That explained how the collars worked, too. Knowing that, along with understanding how the power dampener he had helped secure worked, affirmed his suspicion that the MRD had means of rendering the device blind. All you had to do was slap a collar on a mutant and the energy the unique gene gave off would be blocked, rendering them invisible – and their powers useless.

And while the MRD weren't the sharpest blades on the weapon rack, whoever ordered this attack clearly was. Either there were more collars in circulation than the one they had secured, or there was a second means of blocking the genetic signature they didn't know of. Or, less likely, both.

"Is there a way to crack through the blocking field?"

Beast shook his head. "None that I've found – well, none that are distinctly 'safe.' Of course, we could always try amping up the detection software to see if that might 'pierce the veil' so to speak. But to do that would require having access to Stark's satellites, and linking Cerebro with a network that expansive would put immense strain on Charles' mind."

"Henry, don't worry about me. My concern is getting the children back safely. I will do whatever is necessary to see them returned unharmed. If that means suffering a psychic migraine for a while afterwards, then so be it. I've suffered worse."

The blue-furred mutant gave in at that, though he looked none too happy about the point his friend had made. Frankly, none of those present did. But if Xavier was willing to suffer the side effects of such a planetary scan, then that was the end of it. This was his choice to make, and he was the highest authority in the Institute. No one was going to argue with him.

"So, let's give Tony a call and see if he's willing to lend us a hand. Henry, if you would."

Nodding, Beast headed for his computer and began prepping a video call to Avengers Mansion.

* * *

Tony was busy tinkering with the table in the Assembly Hall, the inventor concealed halfway beneath it with his legs sticking out. A tool was clasped in one free hand while yet another was held firmly in his mouth. This odd distribution left him with one free hand to grip and fiddle with wires because one was all he really needed. He had Ant-Man at micro-scale ensuring no frays in the wires themselves and so had to be careful not to jostle them _–_ thus, one hand was enough. As he worked, he talked – about how Hank and Jan were doing, wondering what the heck Galv was up to, and about the battle with their most recent villain that day: Mad Thinker.

"You gotta admit that was fun in a way, Hank. I normally don't get to use my head for fights. Sure there were hostages involved but still."

[Just keep the wire steady, Tony. There aren't any grips in here, and I'd rather not wind up in the circuit board.] Ant-Man deadpanned over his Bluetooth.

Vision stood in a shadowed corner like an oddly colored specter, silently running diagnostics on the security systems. He felt not the same need for conversation as Iron Man did and so said nothing. He liked being able to focus on one problem at a time, unlike Tony who enjoyed having multiple thought trains going even as his hands did something completely different. It was his personal belief the man had some form of high-functioning ADHD.

The human at work was just beginning to get into the rhythm of things when a noise came from the table, loud enough to make him jump and bang his head on its underside. He winced harshly, rubbing the forming bruise with his free hand. He'd have Jane take a look at it later. It didn't feel that bad.

[Was that an incoming call?]

"Sounded like. Lemme link your wire up with the other so I can check it out. Just...hang out in there with the electrons for a sec."

As he scooched out from beneath the table, another noise nearly resulted in another bruise. Whoever was calling was clearly persistent. If it was Fury he'd told him in advance the Hall's systems would be down for maintenance and routine upgrades. That meant no calls. Obviously the person calling hadn't gotten that little memo. On that observation he got to his feet, spun around, and put his hands on the table.

"Jarvis, who's calling?"

"One moment, please." A pause. "It...appears to be the Xavier Institute, sir. The call is coming from the same computer as their last one."

The Xavier Institute? That was a bit unusual. The Avengers hadn't heard from them since Galvatron had joined them. Maybe this was an overdue status update from their alien friend? He was the type to repeatedly ring to doorbell so to speak. Or maybe it was just the kids hacking poor McCoy's computer and sending a prank call for some giggles. That was equally likely. Beast, while a genius in chemistry, wasn't the best at creating foolproof passwords.

"Open it up, then. Let's see who wants our attention."

He waited patiently as Jarvis secured the connection. Then, without so much as a warning, the holographic screen flared to life. Tony let a smile form at the sight on the other end even as questions stormed through his mind like a cavalry charge. Clustered in front of the webcam were Beast, Professor Xavier, and a half a dozen of the young students. Looming behind them was the familiarly grim figure of Galvatron's holo-form. Cute as the scene was at first glance, something in the eyes of the callers warned him this was anything but a friendly social call – there was a distinct grimness in them.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't try to be light-hearted and friendly in an effort to lift their spirits. Something was bothering them.

"Galv! Hey, pal! I was wondering when you were gonna give us a ring. It looks like you made friends. Good on you. Professor, McCoy – good to see you. You too, kids."

Some of the grimness in the mutants eyes faded at this cheery greeting. The two mutant adults managed wry smiles at him even as Galvatron maintained his small frown and generally dark attitude. Hm. That was even stranger. Galvatron normally was quick to smile where he and the other Avengers were concerned. That he hadn't just re-affirmed the man's sneaking suspicion that something was very wrong indeed.

"...Guys? Something up?"

"Stark." began Xavier. "We truly wish we didn't have to ask this of you, but we find ourselves in dire need of your expertise and resources. Earlier today, a number of my students were taken by an MRD squadron that attacked the Institute – Adaryn included. Galvatron arrived back from the mission in Louisiana in record time thanks to the assistance of the Autobot Ratchet, but he was too late to do anything. Whatever they have done with them, wherever they have taken them has rendered them invisible to Cerebro. We have a plan to find them but we require your aid for it to succeed."

Tony stood rigid for a moment, taking in the news. Then: "Whatever you need, just name it. If they so much as scratched those kids..."

"Frankly, we need access to your satellite network. Bobbie and Galvatron suggested we link Cerebro's software with that of your satellites, and Mr. McCoy suggested we then 'supercharge' the detection software itself to see if it might see past whatever is blocking them. As to what is blocking them – we have suspicions but no certainties."

"I'll be happy to help. I'll even see if I can rope Reed in. There's just one little – okay, pretty big – hitch to this. I can't upgrade their software remotely. The upgrading is gonna have to be manual, and that'll take quite a while because it'll entail me, Vision, Hank 1 and Hank 2, and possibly Reed getting in the Quinjet, going up into low orbit, and doing the changes by hand – multiple times. Upgrading that many satellites..." He shook his head. "That'll easily be a month or more of work on our parts."

On the other end, Galvatron's jaw dropped: "A _month or more? _Tony, who knows what might happen to them in that span of time! You're well aware of how corrupt the MRD have become! For all we know there could be Purifiers in their ranks!"

"There's no way around that. I'm sorry, I wish there was a way to speed this up, but that's how its gonna have to be. Even if I had Raf and Ratchet helping from the ground it would still take a while. Cerebro is a very advanced piece of tech and so is my network, and both are designed to do entirely different things. Getting one upgraded so it can sync with the other...I'm sorry. I'm not Kang. I don't have the currents of time at my fingertips. We'll work as fast as we can without making slip-ups, but there'll be a wait no matter what."

Realizing there was no other way, the holo-form sighed and gave in. He apparently understood this was how life was sometimes. Not every solution was instantaneous or to one's preference, and you just had to sit down, suck it up, and deal with it. This would be one of the rare moments in his long life where he would force himself not to rush to and fro looking for answers...and simply wait. Here, with no leads to follow or select individuals to pursue, patience was the only viable option open to him – to all of them. An answer would come in the end. It would just take time.

But that didn't mean he had to like it.

"We'll find 'em, pal. Don't worry. The instant we get those satellites upgraded and running, you'll be the first to know. Well, first next to the Prof."

On those soft-spoken but determined words of reassurance, Tony ended the call. Then, slipping under the table, he yanked one of the wires out, held it vertically, and caught a very tiny Ant-Man in his open palm.

"Hank, drop everything. Let Vision and Jarvis finish up the software updates. I'm sure they can manage. We got another thing to do. Way more important. You heard?"

The minuscule size-changer leapt off even as he grew back to normal size. His normally friendly countenance was severe, almost angry. "Every word."

"Then let's go pay Reed a visit. Grab an ant. I'll grab my armor. Meet me on the roof. We've got work to do." He turned to the third party in the room. "Vision? Can you handle things here for a little while?"

Silently the colorful android nodded.

"If you have any trouble with the systems, call T'Challa. We'll be back in a bit."

That said, the un-armored Avengers sprinted out the sliding doors posthaste. He meant to start on this new project right away – no delays. Lives were at stake per the usual order of things, but this time around it was innocent young children involved in this game of high-stakes hide-and-seek, not just adults. And they were at the mercy of a very corrupt organization no less. That upped the priority to mandatory. No time could be wasted in matters so urgent.

* * *

MUTANT RESPONSE DIVISION HOLDING FACILITY OMEGA-RED  
LOCATION: UNDISCLOSED

Adaryn knew she was not the only one thinking they were royally screwed. She didn't need to read the minds of her fellow captives to know – the fear in their eyes told her everything.

The MRD officers had been rough during their capture. All of the young mutants sported bruises on their bodies, Adaryn excluded by virtue of her healing ability. Rahne had tried to fight back viciously in her wolf form and sported not only bruises but cuts from combat knives, the latter having been hastily bandaged by one female officer on the ride over. Soon after their being shoved into a transport truck they had had strange collars clamped around their necks, and Adaryn's wings had been clamped to prevent their use – not that they were usable anyway. Jubilee had subsequently made a valiant attempt to escape by use of her fireworks only to discover her powers no longer worked. She had thus been handcuffed, the door had been shut, and the long drive had begun.

No one knew how much time had passed. Throughout the whole trip not one mutant had said a word. They had all sat there in silence, fearing what might happen next.

Now, as they exited the heavy truck and were led down grey hallways that seemed to constrict on themselves, the fear in their eyes only grew. Out of the group, Jamie appeared the most frightened. Rahne took note of this, her nose detecting the spike in fear pheromones, and subtly drew nearer the youngest captive, one hand covertly gripping his. While it didn't seem to calm him completely, it did serve to reassure him by a fraction or two. They were in unfamiliar, scary surroundings, but at least they had each other.

They turned a corner, and the corridor they were in abruptly widened into a large room lined with cells. A good number of these were devoid of occupants but a sprinkling of them held what the captives could only guess were other mutants. Some had horns, scales covering their bodies – one even had a pair of pale pink insect wings that matched her vibrant magenta hair. Another had electric blue hair but no wings. And like them, all had the same collar around their necks choking their powers.

"This way." said their male escort stiffly.

The mutants followed without arguing. But when Adaryn tried to follow the others, the escort barred her with a hand. He frowned, clarifying: "Not you. Boss has plans for you."

"Like hell he does." Adaryn snapped. "I'm the oldest of this lot and it's my responsibility to stick with the mites and make sure you and your buddies don't try and off 'em. So if you'll excuse me, you bloody cocksack –"

She shoved the hand out of the way even as the other grabbed her arm in a vice grip.

"That wasn't a suggestion, missy."

Adaryn eyed the hand, smirking internally. Without the least forewarning the girl's head lunged for the escort's unprotected lower arm, her teeth sinking into his flesh hard enough to draw a minuscule amount of blood. The ensuing pain forced him to let go, and she thus ran back towards the corridor they had come in from. Behind her she heard Jamie cheer but she refused to look back, refused to be distracted. If she could make it out...

"Patrol Four! We got a runner down Exit Tunnel B! Stop her!"

She barely made it fifteen feet into the corridor when three armed guards fell upon her. As much as she tried to struggle, they were simply too strong for her. And so, reluctantly, she stopped fighting and permitted herself to be led down another corridor. A glance back revealed the younger kids staring after her anxiously, the hope in their eyes dashed to pieces as they realized she wasn't getting out of this. None of them were.

They were trapped. Prisoners.

* * *

**Author's Note: Gosh I'm so behind on this story! I've been so busy with my others that I've barely had time to work on my masterpiece! XD But yes, this is still on-going and will be going for quite some time. Updates will slow down thanks to college starting back up on Tuesday, so don't expect to be spoiled with chapters on my various fics like you guys were over the break.**

***Note 1: I'm not revealing what's going to happen to Adaryn. I will say this - due to her wings, telepathic ability, and mild healing factor she is an anomaly and thus the MRD are very interested in her. They want to study her to find out what allowed this breach of the norm, and unfortunately that will involve some...invasive procedures. Forewarning that the next chapter or so are going to be very dark.**


	32. Chapter 32: The Waiting Game

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 32**

_*Note to "Guest": Oh, don't worry. Kelly will be getting his comeuppance very soon. Galv is not the kind of mech to take this sort of act lying down. He's gotta find those kids first though so that he has the necessary evidence. He's not one to go barging in without proper blackmail material. Because Cap is more or less spot on in describing his personality as cat-like __–__ cats are patient when they stalk. But once they've got the opening they need, they strike swiftly and without mercy. They also happen to like playing with their prey._

* * *

At the Institute, the rest of the morning passed without further excitements. Galvatron kept himself busy as best he could to keep his mind from worrying. He assisted the students in removing the Sentinel bits from the grounds. He also wirelessly hacked into the automated defenses to ensure Jazz's reactivation had gone smoothly. Not that he doubted the saboteur's skills in the least, but one could never be too careful. If the Division made another capture run to grab more students, he wanted to make sure the defenses worked and did their jobs.

Those tasks together took almost two hours, and thus coincided with the return of the X-Men from the Gulf Coast. Judging from their expressions when they exited the Blackbird, Xavier must have informed them of the kidnapping on the flight back. Rogue, Ororo, Scott, Jean, and Forge all looked anxious. Logan on the other hand looked downright murderous, snarling like a wild animal as he stalked around trying to find a usable scent.

"Logan, it's no use." Storm said. "The MRD are well aware of your powers and know how to fool your sense of smell. The Professor has secured an alliance with the Avengers. They will help us find them. It will just take time."

The mutant tracker merely emitted another savage snarl and kept searching. He was stubborn – Galvatron would give him that much. And at times like this that sort of attitude was of high value. They simply couldn't allow themselves to give up. As Stark had said earlier, there was going to be a wait no matter what. There was no way around that. But that didn't mean they had to sit idly by while they waited. There were still plenty of other things to be done in the meantime, and the mech intended to keep himself occupied.

First order of business: get either Xavier or Jean to teach him the ins and outs of psychic combat. It was something he had been wanting to do for some time, but was too occupied to go about doing. Now, with a long wait ahead of them, it seemed like the perfect time. Second order was to pay Forge a visit and see if perhaps the mutant could patch some of his broken or malfunctioning systems. If he could even get them back to ten perfect functionality, he'd crush the mutant in a hug.

* * *

Not finding the chair-bound telepath in the Cerebro chamber, Galvatron headed off towards his office. He found the door with ease, and to his mild surprise it was ever so slightly ajar. Voices could be heard from within – both British-accented. One he instantly recognized as belonging to Xavier himself. The other, plainly belonging to a woman, sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. He had heard it on Cybertron, he knew that. But there had been so many voices during and after the battle for his homeworld that they had all jumbled together in his memory banks.

Curiosity got the better of him. Instead of knocking politely, he leaned in and listened:

"_An alliance with the Avengers?"_ the woman asked, somewhat startled. He could almost imagine her shaking her head in astonishment as she continued: "_I thought it would never happen, or at least I never thought they would actually announce it so openly. What's to stop Magneto, the MRD, or even the Purifiers from targeting them now?"_

"_If the MRD attacks the Avengers, who have no mutant on their team, it could put them in jeopardy. Having his organization shut down is something Robert would never allow. The Purifiers will not bother with them since they currently harbor no mutants under their roof – given that may change in time. And while Erik's methods may not be the most admirable, he does have the best interest of mutants at heart. He might even be willing to help us if we ask him. I...actually want to introduce him to our very helpful guest."_

The woman let out a short, sharp breath through her nose that sounded almost contemptuous.

"_Really, Charles? Put the Master of Magnetism in the same room as a metal titan from space __–__ who, by the way, has no mutant powers to speak of? That's quite a gamble of trust, even for you. What makes you think he won't crush him into a sheet the instant he steps foot on Genosha?_"

"_I did hear from Stephen __–__ Doctor Strange __–__ that he has shown remarkable aptitude in the arcane. He's displayed quite a gift for weapon conjuration. My X-Men have seen it for themselves. If he keeps up his training, he says he might even make the Defenders. Heaven knows they could use more to their numbers, especially since Magik warns me of a disturbance in Otherplace. Someone there is making a power grab so she says. Who she is not certain of, though personally she suspects Blackheart. But dimensional weaknesses are becoming more frequent. It is all she, Damian, Ghost Rider, and the other Defenders can do to keep demons from spilling into the streets."_

Galvatron let his jaw drop open slightly. Strange had actually said that? Then that definitely meant he had to get better at blocking psychic attacks. And knowing now that the rift Primus had sensed in the underground was only one of many was not good news. Who Magik was or what her powers were – those were questions for later. He suspected the lady in question had some sort of unique dimensional resonance if she could sense these rifts herself.

_"...News aside, that's not a mutant power."_

_"No, but it might be enough to convince Erik that he wants to help. In any event, introducing the two might keep such an eventuality as you describe from happening. Once Erik knows he is not an enemy of mutantkind, that should keep him safe when they are around one another. That's not to mention it would make Genosha just one more safe place for him on a planet that desperately wants to kill him. There, he would be under the protection of one of the most powerful mutants on the face of the Earth._"

"_Speaking of which, have you been able to detect any activity from...him? Does he pose any significant danger to Earth? I haven't the skill just yet to probe the mind of what, for what all intents and purposes, is a literal god. I'm worried that even if I tried, he might recognize my psychic fingerprint. I was the one to block one of the attacks during Megatron's...possession._"

He had to lean in to hear the next words, as Xavier's voice dropped in volume to where it was almost a whisper:

"_Dormant as Unicron's body is, his mind still churns. I have only been able to briefly touch it, as each time he pushes back with force only a cosmic entity could manage. He is planning something. That much I can say for certain. What it is, who is involved, and who is the intended target I cannot say. Whatever scheme Unicron is concocting, he is being dangerously patient about it. Yet, at the same time, he seems to want to work quickly. I worry that __–_"

Here Xavier abruptly cut off. Galvatron suddenly felt attention being focused on him, and an odd sensation swept over his mind like a radar beam. Then another – this one different, lighter. And yet it was distinctly familiar to him – the same sense he'd felt on Cybertron when another mind had blocked one of the Unmaker's attacks. He knew it belonged to the other speaker, the woman whose voice he vaguely recognized. They'd admitted that they had been the ones to do so. Why was it familiar though? Who was the woman in the room?

"Ah, Galvatron? Is that you?"

He froze. Looks like he'd been found out. Dammit.

"Please, come in. It's alright. Truthfully, I was beginning to wonder whether or not you would come."

Thus encouraged but still feeling awkward, he gently pushed the door open.

His first sight was of the Professor behind his desk, smiling in a knowing, empathetic manner. That alone told him that perhaps he had been aware of the eavesdropping to begin with. When the door swung open fully and caught the doorstop on the wall behind it, the mystery woman was suddenly revealed to him sitting on the far right of the big desk. He stared at her for a moment before giving her a quick once over, desperately trying to jog his stubborn memory. She looked _very_ familiar.

The mystery woman wore a formal though low cut business shirt beneath a pale grey jacket, both sharply accented by pitch black slacks with a slim silver belt. White sandals revealed a pair of slender, well-pedicured feet. Encircling her neck was a silver choker, its tiny circular bangle bearing a distinct golden "X". Diamond earrings glittered beneath her long, blond hair. Her lips were coated in glacial blue lipstick. Around her wrists were simple silver bracelets. Her pale blue eyes glittered like ice. A woman well off from all accounts, and one who understood fashion just as well as Wasp did.

One eyebrow rose curiously on the holo-form's face. Xavier noted it, eyes twinkling. He seemed to be remembering her.

"I don't expect you to recognize her like this. Allow me to introduce to you Ms. Emma Frost, the White Queen. She is an honorary member of my X-Men much in the same way Gambit is. She runs her own private school for mutants in the countryside. I told her about the kidnapping telepathically and she came at once, offering her aid – both monetary and personal." explained the chair-bound telepath.

Galvatron bowed his head once, quick, in silent greeting, a small smile flashing in and out. He remembered her now, he said. She had been the pure white femme who had spoken with Spider-Man on Cybertron – the one to explain why the youth's openly friendly personality was so confusing to him at the time. And she was apparently the one to help him during his possession by blocking one of Unicron's powerful psychic attacks. He had always wondered which telepath was the guilty party. Privately he'd suspected Jean.

Emma smiled a thin little smile through her glacial blue lips. Eavesdropping, eh? She'd thought someone like him to be above that.

The holo-form grinned back. Already he was liking this female telepath.

"What brings you here so suddenly?" she asked.

As quickly as he could, Galvatron explained himself. He told her that a few short weeks ago he had been in a training session with Doctor Strange and how, right in the middle of it, Black Knight had come in with Iron Fist at his heels. He told her what the three Defenders had explained to him: that the city had been put in deep sleep by the combined mystic power of Morgan Le Fay and Nightmare.

Emma nodded at all of his points. Yes, she was well aware of Nightmare's incursion. She had felt the effects of the Mists of Morpheus even from miles outside the city. It had taken a tremendous amount of willpower not to succumb to it. But she knew this was not what his visit to Xavier's office was about, so she asked him to continue as a small, grave frown formed on the other telepath's lips. He was well aware of where this short tale was headed, he and his X-Men having been just a few of the countless people victimized by the demon.

Galvatron thus went on. He told of his search of the museum and eventual discovery of the siphon artifact. With a faint smirk he described its destruction. But it was here where his tone grew wary and reluctant. Eventually he simply trailed off, hesitant to go into the vivid, painful details of his desperate battle with the sleep demon. If not for Primus's subtle aid from within, he was certain he would be plagued with night terrors over those moments – something Nightmare was probably counting on in order to regain his strength. But perhaps since these were telepaths he was speaking with there was no need to explain verbally.

"Reach in. See for yourself the horrors he put me through. I don't think I need warn you that it's...graphic."

Both telepaths nodded grimly. As gently and non-intrusively as they could they reached in, linking their minds with his.

Almost instantly their expressions altered visibly to ones of shock as the first torment assailed them, but neither pulled out. When the second torment came, the shock remained and was joined by pity. At the end of it, Emma was forced to withdraw with a gasp, pale blue eyes wide in disbelief. He heard her mumble "I-I had no idea..." He could only imagine what she was thinking of what she'd seen. When it came to dredging up the past, Nightmare was an expert at turning it into a horror show for his own twisted delight.

Xavier stubbornly remained linked for the final torment – the arena – and thus Galvatron's victory. As the telepath watched the scene play out, Galvatron saw him visibly wince when his mind retaliated brutally, flinging Nightmare across the arena where he impacted the walls with a painful, resounding thud and crack. The mech was lucky the demon was a incorporeal, immortal entity, otherwise a throw like that would've broken every bone in his body. With that, Xavier disconnected.

"I see. You want to learn how to block psychic attacks like the ones Nightmare inflicted on you."

Galvatron nodded. "I managed in the end, but it would've been better if I could've kept him out entirely, or found a way to fight back sooner."

"Charles, you can't be serious. He's not a telepath. Summoning weapons is a far cry from that. How do you expect to teach him psychic combat?" Emma protested.

"He's not a telepath, true." Xavier conceded. "But there are certain, basic means of resistance even a normal mind can accomplish with the right training. His striking back at the end of Nightmare's torments shows he has a rudimentary grasp of those basics. All he needs is a bit of guided training. And need I remind you of Mesmero's power to control even a talented telepath. In light of that, would you be willing to help?"

Emma sighed. She said that, as charming as such such an experience might be, she had no desire to inflict more mental trauma on him. Her telepathy wasn't nearly as refined as Xavier's. That, and she didn't want to see more of the horrors of pre-War Cybertron. Everyone had a weakness. This was hers. Seeing the way the lower working classes had been treated by the elites...that was something she didn't need to see. She was interested in knowing of any progress, though.

Xavier nodded, watching as the White Queen rose and swept by the dark holo-form in a whiff of fine garments and perfume. He noted the strange look the energy apparition gave her – one of childish curiosity mingled with a flash of angry defiance. Tempted as he was, he stayed out of Galvatron's mind. There was some friction going on because of Emma's refusal. That much he could see. Judging by what little he knew of pre-War Cybertron and the alien's own past, he had a sense he knew what was bothering him.

"She reminds you of those who used you and countless others in the past."

Galvatron glanced at him out of the corner of his red eyes.

"Yes. Wealthy, influential, powerful. And too tender to deal with the dirty undersides of society. She would rather turn a blind eye to corruption than face it head on. At the very most all she'll do is help from the comfort of the sidelines. If you don't handle the issue directly, it will never be resolved. It will sit there, festering like an open wound until it becomes necessary to amputate or operate. Orion and I tried to operate, but...I ruined our chances. I let Unicron get to me and – well, as you humans always say: the rest is history."

"Emma may be a bit...hesitant to get involved, but she does still offer substantial aid. I only asked her so you can see that every telepath has unique ways of attack. For now though, take a seat. Logan did mention this request of yours to me. I was waiting for you to come to me, as I'm a man of choice and not orders. We do have time to spare in the meantime, so better now than learning on the job."

* * *

Nearly two hours of learning the basics of blocking had resulted in a rather haggard, tired Galvatron searching the Institute for Forge. Before leaving his office, Xavier had offered to locate the young mutant for him, but the energy apparition had refused. He was fine, really. And he could find Forge on his own without having to use the telepath as a navigation system. He'd be here for a while he argued, so it was best he get a better sense of the building's layout as he'd only seen certain parts of it himself. Schematics were all well and good, but personal investigation was better. It helped cement the data he said.

Xavier had given it at that somewhat reluctantly.

And so he wandered the massive building in search of Forge, unable to use his tracking system to speed the process. Finally coming up with nothing in the building proper, he was about to bang his head against the nearest wall out of exhausted frustration when a tingle of energy went off on his arm. That sense, while different, was familiar to him. It was the electromagnetic field of his body – his real one – reacting to another field near it, one much weaker but still detectable. He took the sensation as the hinting red flag that it was, dismissing the holo-form.

Someone was in the hangar, close enough to set off his field. And he had a pretty good idea who it might be.

* * *

Forge was curious. He always was. And that curiosity had led him to the hangar where was now debating whether or not to poke the giant alien aircraft sitting there apparently napping. The mutant was curious as to how the alien and its energy form worked. That was one puzzle about them he hadn't quite figured out yet. His mutant power allowed him to understand machines by touching them, so maybe if he gave the alien a poke he could figure it out? Well, it was worth a shot anyway.

Right when his fingers were about half a centimeter from the heated mesh, the alien's engine gave a soft roaring noise as its systems whirred back to life. In spite of himself, he yelped and jumped back. So much for getting his answer covertly. He'd been hoping Galvatron's electromagnetic field wouldn't detect his own bio-electric one. Obviously he'd underestimated how sensitive the field was. That it was so receptive to others far fainter than his was...kind of neat, really. Just showed how adaptive his race was. You could plunk these guys pretty much anywhere and they'd find a way to fit in.

"Forge? What are you doing down here?"

"I, uh – heh – well, um..." the mutant stammered. He rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"Calm down. I won't bite. I'm actually thankful you're here, not mad. I've been looking all over for you."

"Oh, um. Okay. Why?"

"I...have a favor to ask of you."

The mutant's eyes lit up as his curiosity spiked. He quickly asked what it was he needed done. Thus, Galvatron explained at length what he wanted from him. He knew how Forge's brain worked well enough to know he would understand a lot of the technical terms, and while he didn't entirely understand the man's mutant ability or how it worked, he had faith that it would provide the needed edge for the repairs – an edge Stark hadn't had.

Forge stood there staring at him in silence for almost a full minute, blinking occasionally as his brain processed the request. Then:

"I'll-I'll give it my best shot. But I'll be able to tell how easy or hard it'll be once I see how bad the damage is. I can't tell just by looking at you. I didn't even know about this until you told me just now. So..." he lifted a hand. "You mind? Just gonna touch, not take you apart or anything. Your systems _should _relay the data through the nerve endings in my fingers."

"How does that work?"

"I'm acting as an...internet admin I guess. Or customer support. You send out error messages, I get them, and I analyze them. But I gotta be connected for the server to work. Can't access the internet without a wi-fi router or a cable, y'know. Or phone signal. One of the three."

"Very well."

"Won't be awkward. Just tapping."

He demonstrated. Reaching out, he let the tips of four of his fingers rest on the aircraft's armor plating. After a few seconds, he removed them. That was all he was going to be doing he said. Forge joked he just hoped he wasn't super ticklish. He had heard it on good authority Cybertronians were as ticklish as humans, maybe even a bit more due to how sensitive their tactile network was.

"Ha-ha. Seems I have to disappoint you. We can alter sensitivity, unlike humans." He paused. "Just...see what the damage is and whether or not you can do anything about it. I'm not asking for a miracle from you. One hundred percent functionality restoration after Unicron's possession and cursing is beyond the capabilities of even our builder, recovering as he is from millenia of dormancy. Perhaps in time he might be able to, but a partial fix is better than leaving them in the despicable state they're in now. He's...he's the one who recommended I come to you."

Forge's jaw dropped. He honestly thought he'd misheard. Primus – a literal freaking god – had recommended one of his suffering creations to come to him for help, for healing? A god was putting his faith in a mutant? That was...Wow! He didn't know what to say. Hell, even if he had the words he simply couldn't get them out right now. It was almost too much to take in. Actually, he was feeling a little dizzy right now...

Galvatron watched with mingled worry and amusement as the mutant's legs seemed to lose their structure. In less than a second he collapsed to the cold cement floor in a thud. Seconds later he heard what he swore was slow, sarcastic clapping, but it wasn't coming from around him – it was coming from in his helm. A faint sound rather like rolling thunder soon joined it.

'_Well done, Galvatron. Well done._'

"...I didn't realize you had it in you to mock someone. Congratulations. You did it. Going to mark that off your bucket list?"

'_I might. That aside, make sure he's alright, would you? That thud sounded painful._'

It turned out he didn't need to. Forge came around within thirty seconds and was back to his full faculties by the minute. No harm had been done. And so he went around to the nose of his vehicle form, reached out, and put four fingers gently against the warm metal. His eyes then shut as his brain began to absorb the data his damaged systems were feeding him.

Galvatron saw the mutant wince visibly after only a short few seconds. Abruptly he removed his fingers and went around to his port side, performing the same fingertip touch. Another wince, but this one wasn't nearly as harsh. He continued with his examination for another ten minutes, his expression going from angry to sympathetic to determined. The last one gave him hope. Forge clearly though the task allotted to him wasn't impossible.

At last, he pulled back. "Hmm...Hm-hm. Well, what he did to you was ugly and the sort of thing only an evil god would do...but I think I can pretty it up a bit. It'll just take a while. That is, if you don't mind my repeatedly getting under your hood and tinkering. You have too many natural defenses set up for me to do any technopathic manipulation, and I'm pretty sure you can't shut those off. I try and reprogram your nanites and they might, I dunno, swarm out and disassemble me or something."

"I rather doubt that. Nanites are our version of platelets. They are not like immune cells. They assist only in the healing process – sealing major breaches until they can be closed by more permanent means. But I see no problem with that. I'm guessing Ratchet could supply you with my medical scans if –"

He was cut off when Xavier's voice rang clearly in his mind:

'_X-Men? Cerebro has detected the Brotherhood causing trouble in Vermont. I do not know what they want there, but the thoughts of the officers heading for the scene make it sound as if they are attacking an MRD instillation. Confirmed sightings of Avalanche, Toad, Blob, and Pyro. Whether or not Boom Boom or Nitro are there is unknown. But we need to stop them before they cause major damage.'_

"Oh come on! Don't these punks ever take breaks?! I was just about to start with my repairs on Galv!"

'_I was about to suggest you stay here with Hank and the children. We need to keep our defenses bolstered at all times_. _The sooner you deal with his internal problems the better._'

'_Whoa, wait. What internal problems?_' Kurt demanded.

'_Never mind that,_ _elf_.' Wolverine grunted. _'__Just suit up and get in the Blackbird. Keep an eye on the kids for us, Galv. We're countin' on you to make sure they all stay here._'

Galvatron assured him that the Division would not get the chance to abduct any more children. Even if Unicron himself attacked the place he would not yield. He had failed in his promise to protect the young mutants earlier. Here, at least, was a chance to atone for his failure, and he swore he would not let it pass by. On that note the telepathic link-up was shut.

Forge rushed over to a room adjoining the hangar. He came back out with a kit of tools and a Bluetooth device hooked around one ear.

"Right. Let's see if I can't patch some of you up by the time the others get back."

* * *

**Author's Note: Someone wanted me to introduce Galvatron and Magneto. I forget who. So that's what I'm building towards now during this month or more wait. They pointed out how interesting it would be because their characters are actually quite similar. Plus, I think it would be neat for an alien made entirely of metal to meet the "Master of Magnetism." I think it's well within Magneto's power to crush one like a tin can if he wanted to.**


	33. Chapter 33: Sinister Plans

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 33**

_*Note: Time will be passing a bit rapidly during this month wait. Don't want you lot getting bored on me. Besides, I really want to get those kids back safe and sound._

_*Note: I've been playing Marvel Heroes too much lately. If anyone here plays it, you'll get some of the references this chapter. Also, Steve Blum does an excellent Mister Sinister. ;) I'll probably be working a little off some of the story lines in there because the game is so freaking epic. Also, that version of Hill I like better. She's not as much of a d*** to the heroes._

* * *

He stayed silent while Forge worked. Frankly he was concerned that if he spoke he'd break his concentration. It wasn't like he had anything to say anyway. The most he could do was look at the medical scans on the tablet near at hand and wince internally each time he saw them, musing darkly how such damage had come to scar him. Knowing of the damage was one thing. Seeing it for himself was another matter altogether. Each glance, each wince left him with a sick feeling in his tanks. And conceal it as Forge might, the mutant seemed to now hold a personal desire to strangle the monster who'd done this to him.

Unicron had revived him from the dead, yes, had repaired and remade him to suit his purposes. If not for him he would be stuck in the Pit with the other wretched sparks who had sworn to serve him and died in his accursed name. He had granted power, near invulnerability even. It had come at a cost in the end though – a horrible cost. The dark entity's expulsion from his frame had left almost all of his systems malfunctioning or broken, his weapons taken from him, his spark severed – a final act of anger and revenge meant to remind him of his "mistake" in refusing him and his gifts.

'_Hmph. Mistake my rear thrusters._' he grumbled mentally. '_My only mistake was thinking he'd actually help me_.'

He was hoping for some gentle reply from the entity locked in his helm. Aside from a faint rumble and a soft touch to his conscience he recieved no answer. There had been a hint of encouragement in it though, and a flicker of sadness.

But Forge worked quickly, his movements and tinkering as efficient as a well-oiled machine. Eventually he drew back, tapping the end point of a special wrench against his chin.

"Right. Check out your navigation systems and tell me how they're working."

Galvatron's alternative form rumbled to life, lateral lines igniting. He activated his previously broken navigation systems. He wasn't holding onto hope for a miracle, but on running a diagnostic of them he was stunned. The mech stayed silent for a moment, uncomprehending of the percentages and readings he was seeing. Then he reported with a short, gleeful laugh:

"Systems functioning at thirty percent capacity! Scanning accuracy and sensitivity increased from ten percent to fifty! Forge, you are incredible!"

Forge cracked a near manic grin as he whooped and jumped into the air. He then pointed to the ground and stuck his tongue out like a rebellious child.

"Ha! You see that, sucker? I'm fixing what you did! Come at me, bro! Come at me!" he declared. To Galvatron's amusement he started doing a little dance and concocting a childish rhyme to it: "I'm bad! I'm ace! I'm turnin' you to a total disgrace! Ha! Whoo!"

The two laughed their relief and joy for a full two minutes. None of them heard or felt the growl-like rumbling of anger beneath them. Only a sense of dread settling in the air made them stop at last – a dread only the entity within Galvatron could place. But he did not request either of them to stop. Better Unicron be humiliated and belittled by joyous mirth than fed with hopelessness and sorrow. It weakened him, and gave the other entity the strength he needed to mend his patient.

* * *

XAVIER INSTITUTE  
WESTCHESTER COUNTY, NEW YORK  
0200 HOURS

Patrolling Galvatron's subconscious while he recharged was a task Primus enjoyed to a certain degree. Duty though it was to keep him sane and content, he always smiled on noting the progress he was making, and he cherished the chances to personally interact with him. Tonight there was no conjured dreamscape, just the endless but peaceful blackness of his mind. He took that as a good sign. Nothing was bothering him enough to have to speak about it – other than the missing children, but he didn't seem quite as worried as he had been. And so he simply wandered with no real destination, a shining candle in a landscape wreathed in darkness.

Because while talking with the protective firebrand was all well and good, sometimes talking to a physical target was more...more cathartic. Galvatron was showing a bad habit of bottling what was troubling him and only letting it out once the pressure grew too great. Rather than confide in the heroes, he seemed to heavily confide in him. But he did seem to be more willing to open up to telepaths. Hm. Perhaps even Jackson, Miko, and Rafael could be of help to him. Galvatron had seemed very happy to be around them, and Jackson had already shown an innate talent in getting him to talk.

He paused mid-step suddenly, noting an unnatural thickness in the shadows off to his left. His gold optics narrowed suspiciously, almost angrily. This wasn't Nightmare. No, this was a presence he was far more familiar with. Instinctively a blade of white light formed in his hand, and from behind his back a pair of wings, skeletal in look but rounded and less threatening, retracted. Soon the shadow was bathed in harsh whiteness.

'_You think you can steal him back from me by washing him in your precious light?_' a raspy voice hissed at him, tone venomous and spiteful.

The shadows shifted like water, writhing and forming until a black serpent sat coiled before him, hood decorated with the Greek letter Omega.

A thin, almost taunting smile formed on the deity's lip-plates. Unicron must truly be weak if he was resorting to trying to scare him into submission.

"Think, brother? Oh, no. I _know_ I can_. _Unlike you, I never force anyone to follow me. They follow out of loyalty, respect, and adoration, not fear. After the tortures you inflicted on him time and again, Galvatron has every right to turn his back on you. You promised him power and all you gave him was pain. He wants nothing more to do with you. Or could you not tell?" He paused. "And is it stealing if the item being reclaimed was mine to begin with?"

The serpent's jaw opened and it hissed viciously, a foul, viscous purple liquid dripping from its fangs. But the white candle was unmoved. What he was seeing was petty scare-mongering and empty threats.

"You are in no state to be threatening me, brother. If you have any sense, and I know you do, you will leave Galvatron's mind this instant or I will alert the telepaths and remove you by force. Better them than me. I will not be gentle, just as I was not gentle in your removal on Cybertron. Your threats are empty. Mine, however, are not."

Unicron hissed once more in outrage. To Primus's alarm he then laughed, darkly and without restraint.

'_Empty threats? Hardly. __He will be mine. Wait and see. You cannot stop it. He has already outlived his time. Even you cannot halt Death's approach for long. Her Herald will come, and he will claim him for me...along with some of your beloved heroes. This is one battle you cannot hope to win, little brother. It is not weighted in your favor._'

Chuckling to himself, the shadow serpent dissolved. A rattled Primus shook himself and resumed his patrol. But his thoughts were no longer optimistic or relaxed. His mind now repeated his brother's cryptic words endlessly, vague horror building in the small portion of his spark lent to Galvatron:

'_Her Herald will come._'

'_Her Herald will come._'

'_Her Herald will come..._'

He had to work quickly. He now faced the one enemy not even a cosmic entity was immune to: time. Time...and Death.

* * *

Five days went by. Forge's repairs were a steady constant during that time, as was the occasional skirmish with the Brotherhood and the Division in the surrounding regions. But the mech refused to leave the confines of the Institute, so wary was he of another capture run. The X-Men tried their best to convince him that he could help in the field if he wanted to, that some of them could take his place, but each time the offer was refused. In the end, they simply stopped asking.

By the time five days had gone by, the mutant had managed to get his navigation systems working at about forty percent capacity – a number higher than he could have ever hoped. He'd also found out his alert system for low-energy warning was faulty, alerting him only at the last possible second. Plainly a tactic Unicron hoped to make use of to kill him. And he'd gotten that back to one hundred percent functionality. He'd even managed to partially repair his chronometer, thus enabling him to experience the passage of time once more, even if only vaguely. To do that he'd called in to a friend via Skype: some gruff man by the name of Cable who apparently knew a lot about time, how it flowed and behaved. When Galvatron had tried to speak to him, the voice call had abruptly ended.

And unless he'd been hearing things he could've sworn he'd heard gunfire in the background just before the cut off. When he'd asked Forge, he'd just said one word: "Sinister." Galvatron decided he wasn't getting any further information and left it at that. He'd have Rafael do some digging later.

On the sixth day Forge was called in by Stark to help with some of the satellite upgrades, thus leaving Galvatron to guard the building. Xavier and Logan combined eventually convinced him to take a short leave on the argument that they did not have any Energon in the building and Forge had alerted them of his being dangerously low and had been for a while. Lucky for him he hadn't been active enough to burn through what little remained.

"Go pay the doc a visit. We can handle things here for a bit, tough guy. You've done your share of watch duty." Logan urged. "'Sides, Chuck's gotta...arrange something and it would probably work better if you weren't here. One of your 'Con pals kinda has a history with a certain someone, and 'cause of your relationship with him, that somebody ain't gonna be happy to see you. Er, sense you."

Unfortunate though it was, he knew what Wolverine was saying. Indirectly, he had a bad history with certain mutants thanks to the acts of a certain grey Seeker. Reluctantly, he left through a groundbridge offered by Ratchet moments later. Getting away from the city for a while might be a good change of air. And he'd rather not be crushed into sheet metal. He needed to refuel anyway, and a chance to interact with the children and check on Ratchet sounded agreeable.

* * *

On the seventh day something rather interesting happened: Deputy Maria Hill contacted him personally over his private comm. frequency.

He was wandering around the grounds thinking over everything Ratchet and the teens had said to him when it happened. His comm. link pinged, the ID showing it as the Second-in-Command of S.H.I.E.L.D herself. His lifted spirits up till then took a dive on receiving it. Whenever Fury or one of his lapdogs called in it was always something serious, and he still didn't trust the woman (or like her for that matter) after her vicious verbal attacks when he had first arrived on Earth. Was this her finally extending an olive branch? Or was she just going to snap at him some more?

[Galvatron? Maria Hill of S.H.I.E.L.D. I've got a little something for you that I thought you'd like to hear. Mutant related.]

His attention focused on the call in an instant. "Yes? What is it?"

[Fitz and I intercepted this communication between Nathaniel Essex, a.k.a Mister Sinister, and another party a little over a two weeks ago. Agent Morse just finished decrypting it. In light of the abductions at Xavier's, she...I thought you should have this considering your current allegiance. You're at liberty to share it with whomever you see fit.]

He blinked in surprise. "Thank you, Hill. If this is mutant related, I will show this to the X-Men at once. It might have something to do with our investigation."

[Alright, then. And Galvatron?]

"Yes?"

[...Good luck out there.]

A smile broke out. Hill had in fact offered an olive branch to him in more ways that one. She was beginning to trust him now that he had deeds to back up his promise.

'_See? I told you that she would learn to trust you in time. Just because Hill is reluctant to trust does not mean she is incapable of trusting. Go get this intelligence to Scott. He will be most interested to find out who Sinister has been collaborating with. If anyone might be involved with the abductions, Essex certainly might be._'

He opened a comm. link: "Summers? Gather the X-Men and meet me in the Cerebro chamber. Hill just gave me something valuable and I think you should see it."

[You got it, pal.]

* * *

"Bringing up the file now." Beast reported.

There was no visual display on the monitor, just lines of grey and white static. The communication wasn't a video chat like villains seemed to enjoy using. It was just an audio transmission. But from what Hill had mentioned about the encryption, specifically how long it had taken Mockingbird to decipher it – that hinted at some special device being used. A.I.M was the biggest supplier of such devices.

"_You have been adhering to our deal, Essex?_' this voice was distinctly American in its accent and plainly belonged to a middle-aged male.

The voice that spoke next was deep, guttural, plainly British, and very well enunciated:

"_Of course. So long as you continue to send me gene samples belonging to recently recognized mutants, I will not attempt to remove your Purifiers. After all, only the fittest of mutants should survive the bottleneck. It is how evolution works. I am also occupied with that 'Cleansing Wrath' project of yours; I have had to transfer it to the technicians at A.I.M however. My field is genetics, not weapon making. But what of your end, hmm? Have you found my contractor's missing property yet?_"

Scott asked aloud: "Missing property? What...Sinister's looking for something of his? And he's using the Purifiers to help find it? That's one weird alliance."

"Shh!" Shadowcat shushed him. "Trying to listen!"

"_One of my units encountered someone matching your description._" the first speaker admitted. "_However, they ran into a roadblock. The alien allied with the Avengers showed up, forcing the unit to flee. They have not seen the target since. And storming Avengers Mansion would have been foolish. It would've thrown too much light on my operations._"

Galvatron's holo-form started violently. This other man...h-he was after...no. No. This couldn't be. He was after Adaryn, was trying to get her back into Sinister's hands.

"_But...?_" Sinister prompted.

"_But I spoke with Robert. He has reason to suspect the target has been moved to the Xavier Institute."_

"Sinister working with the Mardies, too? What the hell's that freak want back so badly?" Wolverine snarled.

"_Aah. I see. And you think joining forces with the Mutant Response Division will enable you to acquire my property? Perhaps you would be kind enough to ask Robert to capture a few of the students for study? The female named Rahne is quite interesting __–__ a shape-shifter with only one true shifted form. If you could acquire her I would be most thankful._"

"_Hmph_." the other voice snorted. "_We'll see. Depends on how much of a fight the X-Men put up._"

With that, the audio file finished playing.

"Well, that was interesting." Beast commented dryly.

"What's this 'property' he mentioned? One of his mutant science fair projects?" Kurt asked.

The X-Men heard the holo-form murmur something under his breath, making Logan jolt and snarl. When Jean asked him to repeat what he had said, their eyes widened:

"Adaryn. They were after Adaryn. And they found her." Then: "I have to fix this. I have to fix this right now. I need to find her."

As if in a trance, he whirled around and headed for the doors. Just as he reached it his holo-form faded like a specter. An instant later, Beast alerted them that the hangar beneath the basketball court had been activated and a target had left its confines. Traveling at an incredible pace as well. Already it was out of scanning range.

Ororo's gaze lifted to stare at the ceiling. Her eyes turned partially white as her senses scanned the atmosphere in the state for a disturbance that might indicate where the alien had gone off to in such a rush. She sensed nothing – nothing aside from an unusual charge in the skies above Midtown. She had felt that before, once far in the past and multiple times more recently: a groundbridge.

"He's at the hangar." she said.

Jean and Rogue blinked. "What's he there for?" asked the red-head.

The weather-witch managed a wry smile as she replied: "What do you think? Tech support."

* * *

Jack was a bit surprised to see the great grey mech again so soon. He'd just visited them the other day after having been coaxed out of the Institute for an hour or so. He'd seemed fairly happy to see them all then, to interact with them. The mech had been even more pleased to note Ratchet's progress on his two trade-mark weapons. At the pace he was going they would done within another week or so. But today his expression was like a mech in a trace, and there was something in his optics that made him wary.

"Two visits in two days? You're smothering us here, pal." Miko joked as she saw him.

"This is not a social visit. I need Rafael's help. Ratchet's as well if at all possible."

The tween's head jerked up from his laptop screen. "What do you need me for?"

Galvatron approached him, asking whether or not the boy was capable of running a voice recognition program to identify an unknown caller. It was related to the missing students, specifically to Adaryn. Someone named Nathaniel Essex was working in collusion with the Purifiers to hunt her down, and a recent alliance with the Mutant Response Division had resulted in her capture along with a handful of other students.

"Um. I've never actually done that before. But I'll give it a shot. Give the file to Ratchet though. All that software's on his console. Blame Tony."

Wordlessly he obeyed, uploading the file onto the medic's console while the boy wirelessly linked his laptop to it. Rafael fiddled with the software for a minute or two before saying that recognition software was ready to go. And with that, he played the file. He noted a certain dread in the eyes and optics of those listening, a dread that reached its peak by the time the message had stopped.

"Adaryn...is one of Mister Sinister's genetic experiments?" Miko gaped open-mouthed. "Whoa...talk about a sick twist."

"That might explain the odd ability set she has." Ratchet admitted slowly. "Natural telepaths have inhibitors. She doesn't because she _isn't_ natural. She is a collection of preferable mutant genomes all placed in one body. Somehow she escaped from one of his labs in her youth and has been trying to avoid him since, seeking shelter first in Scotland and now America. She seems to have succeeded until recently. This contractor he mentions though – Sinister obviously made her _for _someone. But who? There are hundreds of super-villains who would love to have a pet mutant weapon."

They fell silent as the recognition software continued to run its course. After nearly ten minutes the software struck a near one hundred percent match:

"Reverend William Stryker?" Jack read off the screen. Where had he heard that name before? News report? Social media?

"Hang on. Lemme see what I can find on him."

The tween set about running a deep web search for anything relating to the name. It was soon found that "Reverend" Stryker was a former army sergeant who had been honorably discharged after sinking into alcoholism, the reason being that his wife and infant son had been blown to pieces with his car in the desert. Curiously enough, Stryker had survived the explosion and had taken it as a sign from God. He had then begun preaching to a disturbingly large number of people and his messages were nothing short of controversial: God did not want mutants, and it was the task of humanity to rid the world of the "Devil's spawn."

"Hmph. Sounds like a Purifier alright." Galvatron grunted. If there was one thing he hated more than Unicron, it was religious fanatics. They reminded him of the Golden Age enforcers of the Senate.

Others were inclined to be suspicious of his survival, namely S.H.I.E.L.D, their European counterpart Excalibur, and the Nevada police. What the organizations had found peculiar was the police reports that indicated that the fire had been intentionally set and that his wife had a broken neck which had happened before death. The infant also bore a single stab wound to the chest. In the end, he had been acquitted of any charges on the count of being "temporarily insane." But unfortunately, no one was able to question Stryker now as he broadcasted from a secure location. S.H.I.E.L.D had said in a report that they had yet to locate the source of his broadcasts, as he was using an encryption more suited to A.I.M's Scientist Supreme.

"Not exactly painting the best image of himself ever, is he?" Jack commented dryly. "A murder suspect turned anti-mutant religious extremist? Kinda surprised this guy isn't rotting in a S.H.I.E.L.D lockup right now."

"Ratchet, is there any way to trace this transmission?" the mech asked. "If we find Stryker...we might find Adaryn and the other students."

"I could try. But I know someone who is a little more suited for this, and lucky for you he stopped by to deliver more components from Shockwave. Soundwave?"

Out of the shadows in the back of the hangar stepped a tall, slender mech colored deep blue and purple. His faceless visor inclined slightly in recognition at the other grey mech across from him, who was now grinning from audial to audial. Soundwave a force to be reckoned with when it came to the airwaves. He was like a bloodhound: once he had a frequency to follow, he would follow it to the ends of the universe to find the sender. And he was an expert at decryption.

"Data file. Request?" droned Soundwave, focusing on the medic.

Ratchet motioned to the terminal and the faceless Communications Chief hooked himself up to the machine with his prehensile cables, taking only seconds to download the transmission.

"Download: complete. Estimated time of search: twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Will remain on planet until search is completed."

"Thank you, Soundwave. Alert me the instant you have a location."

* * *

MUTANT RESPONSE DIVISION HOLDING FACILITY OMEGA-RED  
LOCATION: UNDISCLOSED

Jamie was scared. He and the others had been cooped in their cells for a little over a week now. But they still hadn't seen Adaryn after she'd been dragged off. They all had countless dark possibilities as to what had happened to her, but none of them were brave enough to voice them or wholly believe in them. Surely...surely she couldn't be dead?

In that time they'd made friends with the other mutants in the cells. The girl with the electric blue hair was one Noriko Ashida, though she preferred the field name "Surge." Her powers were pretty cool – absorbing electricity and channeling it out through her body. She could even channel it into a kind of temporary super-speed, bragging that she'd once run from New York to the mountains of Colorado in one afternoon. Damn Mardies had gotten her after that, taking advantage of her breathless state and easily slapping a collar on her. Despite being a native of Japan she spoke English fluently with next to no accent.

The other girl, the one with the pink insect wings, was even cooler: Meagan Gwynn. Hailing from Wales, she went by the field name "Pixie" and was a friendly, gushy personality who loved to talk and joke. Her powers not only included flight, but also inducing psychedelic hallucinations through a powdery substance her wings excreted she called "pixie dust." Apparently it made people see cute things like bunnies and faeries and unicorns. Apparently Mardies didn't like that kind of stuff, and they'd surrounded her and captured her, deeming her a danger.

There was one other mutant in the cell block, but he wasn't very talkative. Even more interesting, he wore no collar. He was strange in appearance, looking disfigured, and had pale grey skin and yellow eyes. Though seemingly unwilling to talk to anyone at first, he did talk to Pixie most often, and thus Rahne, Jamie, and the others were exposed to a shy, frightened, but gentle personality. His power was unique – sensing other mutants within what he guessed to be a twenty-five or so mile radius of him. Because of his appearance, he had been living in the Morlock Underground beneath New York. There at least he'd had friends, had felt safe.

"Wait...you don't have a collar and you can sense mutants?" Jubilee demanded excitedly.

"Shh! Keep it down!" Pixie cautioned. "You want them to know that he has powers?"

"Sorry." Jubilee apologized, lowering her voice. "But you can?"

"Caliban can, yes." the quiet mutant confirmed.

"Can you sense Adaryn? Is she here?"

"Jubilee, it's no use. He can sense them, yeah, but the gene has to be active I think. He can't sense a mutant if their powers are being blocked. And they have to within that radius to start with." Rahne reminded her glumly.

The Asian winced, sighing: "Right. Darn it. Thought I'd found a loophole there."

Silence.

"...You guys think she's okay?" Jamie asked.

"It's Adaryn we're talking about. That girl's got enough attitude to swear down Nick Fury from what I saw. And then kick him in the balls for good measure. I'm thinking she can handle whatever these _kuso yarō_ dish out." Surge said.

"I hope you're right."

* * *

"Now, now. Don't squirm, little bird. All I want is to see how your healing factor is developing. You'll only – oof!"

"Get that bloody needle _away_ from me, you cocksack!"

Nathaniel Essex liked to consider himself a very patient man after dealing with some of the products of Weapon X, Sabertooth, Deadpool, and Wolverine chief among them. But being kicked in the face by a Scots girl with an attitude and exceptionally strong legs (and apparently a rampant case of belenophobia) and sworn at repeatedly was prone to draining one's patience rather quickly.

The prize herself was strapped down to an exam table in his laboratory, wings pinned behind her and snarling like a wild animal. Interesting. She hadn't been quite to easy to flare when she had been under his control. And that leg strength? That hadn't been there before. He hadn't put a gene for superhuman strength into the cocktail of genes that had resulted in Adaryn's birth. Where had that come from? He had designed her from the ground up to be a lightweight aerial infiltrator. Even her looks and personality were designed with that in mind. That had been the request given to him by his out-of-country contractor: someone who could get in the good graces of the heroes and tear them down from the inside.

She had wings. She had a healing factor. She had a personality the heroes would find agreeable. Her small size enabled for quick maneuvering. Once she got into the heroes good graces, they would train her up, letting her view their techniques and styles as only a friend could. Then...he would telepathically take control of her. She had strength slightly stronger than a normal human, a little less than Warren actually– females were rarely the strongest of the sexes, after all – but not enough to hurt Essex himself. Or so he thought.

And yet she had. Luckily his healing factor dealt with his bleeding, broken nose in seconds. Personally he wondered at that.

Concentrating, he reached out, put a hand on her forehead, and focused on the girl's mind. He was startled to feel her mind strike back savagely, ripping at his awareness like a harpy's talons. His confusion only grew. Telepathy, too? Where were these powers stemming from?

"_Nathaniel Essex_. _I would speak to you_."

He spun 'round even as Adaryn let out a surprised, nervous gasp.

Standing in the shadows of the lab was a black-hooded man of shadow, powerfully built. Purple eyes peered from underneath. A pair of skeletal, bony wings coated in black metal protruded from his back. The man's shadow differed drastically from his shape, being far more angular in appearance, and it loomed over the laboratory like a monument in a cemetery.

"_You have something of mine._"

Sinister laughed: "Something of yours? I created her. Who are you to take the claim?"

"_An interested party. And someone who might be able to assist you._"

An eyebrow rose. "...Explain."

"_Her new powers stem from me per her request. That means she is no longer your property, but mine. However, you aim to eliminate the X-Men, and your contractor aimed to shake the wills of the Avengers and the Fantastic Four, thus leaving them vulnerable. One of my...former servants is currently allied with these 'mutants.' __I believe we can arrange something that benefits all three parties. You want to deal with your enemies, your contractor wishes to demoralize and thus eliminate his own enemies, and I merely wish to punish a traitor. What say you, Mister Sinister?_"

He considered for a moment, pacing to and fro in the laboratory as Adaryn's eyes flicked between the shadow man and the man responsible for her artificial life. She had hoped turning to the shadow man would remove her "pawn" status, and for a while it seemed to have done so, but now it looked like they were both debating using her for their own ends – and to make her hurt the people who had helped her. Bloody fantastic. Would this nightmare never end?

Eventually, Sinister stopped pacing and looked the shadow man square in his glowing purple eyes.

"I suppose asking for further clarification is out of the question at the moment?"

"_I never reveal my plans until the time is right. You need only do as I command._"

"Very well, then. Whoever you are, you have a deal."

The shadow man extended a hand, revealing it to be covered in a sharp gauntlet. Essex extended his own, and the two shook. He winced when the razor-like digits moved rapidly, cutting into his hand. Another digit pierced the owner's own hand, and a bizarre glowing purple fluid with the same viscosity as blood leaking out, mingling with the red.

He had a rather odd feeling then, like someone had walked over his grave. But he also felt a surge of raw might.

"_Then the deal is done. A pleasure doing business with you, Nathaniel._" Beneath the hood, a fanged smile could just be discerned.

In a rush of darkness, the hooded man flew at Adaryn.

She screamed.

* * *

**Author's Note: Just clarification - Adaryn's pre-set powers are flight, slightly enhanced strength, a healing factor, and an attitude and personality the heroes would have found likable. The added ones are telepathy and further enhanced strength, and that's the result of the "shadow man." I'll explain that later when their plan is set in motion. Pretty obvious who he is. ;)**

**Also (head-canon time) I like to think that Primus is the younger brother of the two, which would explain his more innocent views and little spurts of childishness around Galvatron. And his enjoying a good friendly prank or two. Or prank war. ;3 It's kind of like the Thor-Loki age relationship but reversed. Unicron is the older brother and, like Alduin from Skyrim, is pretty much the universe's biggest arrogant af bully, using intimidating and fear-tactics to get his way. And, as you guys saw here, if he goes about it and words it just right, he _can _scare Primus.**

**And, as Lord of the Undead, I like to believe he has a sort of...relationship with Hela, but both deities have an understanding with Mistress Death, who's pretty much head honcho of death gods. Anyone who cuts deals with Unicron is no longer under her or Hela's jurisdiction, just like if you cut deals with Mephistopheles or any other "dark god." Since Hela's reach extends to Midgard, he mainly deals with her.**


	34. Chapter 34: Lost and Found Part 1

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 34**

* * *

Eighteen hours passed without incident. While there was urgency in the Institute now, there was also renewed energy. And along with that came hope.

Knowing one of his most trusted allies was here on Earth helping to locate missing mutants, and an ally he knew would not fail in his task – Galvatron had never been one to grab at hope like a desperate child (himself being a frank but pragmatic pessimist) but now he was willing to do it. With Soundwave working on the encrypted transmission and Stark and his allies working on the orbital network – and at a remarkably fast pace going by Stark's updates – things finally seemed to be turning around in their favor. Not only would the transmission cripple the Purifiers by removing their leader from his radical, bigoted perch, it was also exactly what he needed to get Senator Kelly in deep legal trouble – possibly even remove him from office entirely if he played his pieces just right.

Yes, it was still technically blackmail at the end of the day...but he _was _doing it for the right reasons in retrospect. That was more than could be said of some.

'_I'm normally not one to condone such subversive tactics. I think I may make an exception in this particular case. Just this once. Personally I think there are always better ways of going about something as delicate as this situation is...but I am old enough and have experienced enough to know that on some occasions one must do the "wrong" thing for the right reasons. Sometimes bending the rules is the only way to achieve victory in an uneven battle. Sometimes "playing dirty" is the only way to win. Not the most honorable way I admit, but it does work._'

Galvatron couldn't help chuckling to himself as he stood on the grounds of the Institute. He even had a cosmic entity agreeing with him to boot. Oh, he had half a mind to get Soundwave to transmit the recording onto every device in the country capable of playing an audio file – computers, cell phones, tablets, music players. To see Kelly squirm at the words of Essex and Stryker, and to have S.H.I.E.L.D officers barge in and arrest him would be such a sweet, sweet victory. It would be even better if he could be there to see it happen! Consorting with a supervillain? Ha! There was no way he could remain in office after that made its way to the public. Any government official found to broker deals with wanted criminals was charged with a felony and sealed away, never again to be elected. _That _much he knew about American governing and legal systems: felony offenders could never be elected to public office.

'_True. Yet you forget that some crimes go unpunished in the legal sense. Not every crime committed is punished by a court of law, as not all are discovered. Sometimes the guilty can simply walk away from a trial without charges due to cleverness by their lawyers or...less than reputable means, like bribery._'

Oh, but he'd make sure this one was. Mark his words – Kelly would be seeing prison bars by the time these young mutants were found.

Still...that inadvertently brought his attention to something Sinister had mentioned in his message: some project Stryker had put him up to called "Cleansing Wrath" that had been transferred to the scientists at A.I.M. He had no idea what that might be, though it didn't exactly sound like the most gentle or subtle project name ever conceived. But he knew someone who might, someone on the Avengers roster who had quite a history with the technologically-oriented terrorists – Tony. That man made it a rule to keep up with their activity after they'd gotten their hands on many of his old weapon and, more recently, had nearly acquired his armor specs by breaking into Stark Tower. They'd also attempted to murder him with a rogue AI at the same time, but that was rather beside the point.

His comm. link pinged then:

[Galv? How're holdin' up over there, pal?]

Heh. "Speak of the devil and he would appear" so went the old human saying. Or in this case contact you wirelessly via personal frequency.

"Better now that I have Soundwave assisting with the problem at hand. Within twenty-four to forty-eight hours he should be able to provide a location for that encrypted audio transmission."

[Yeah. Raf told me about that after you left. Nasty stuff. Didn't think Sinister was still making test-tube mutants (thought he'd turned his focus on Jean) and I never woulda guessed Adaryn was one of 'em. Most of those guys are programmed to kill and be aggressive because a lot of them possess genes belonging to Wolverine and Sabertooth. He's got some mutant cronies who help him with his abductions – Vertigo and Arclight are the two mainstays if I remember right. Adaryn...she just seemed too nice to be connected with people like that.]

The mech found himself nodding. Adaryn did not behave in any way as belonging to or being associated with known criminals. She was far too independent to go taking orders from anyone.

"Stark, I...have a favor to ask of you. I know you're occupied, but it's not anything imperative. Just something I'd like looked into."

[Sure thing. What is it?]

"In the conversation between Sinister and Stryker, a project entitled "Cleansing Wrath" was mentioned by the former as having been conceived by the latter. I'm not sure what it is, but he said he'd had it transferred to some old friends of yours: the technicians at Advanced Idea Mechanics. That gives me the impression it's a weapon of some sort. I would ask Soundwave or Rafael to look into it, but they're busy with decryption."

[Hm.] Tony hemmed. [I'll have Vision take a look alongside Jarvis and Fitz. One of 'em's bound to find something for you. I'll alert Clay, Wu, and Fury as well. A.I.M's an international group so they fall under their rule. Just going by the name, that doesn't like it'd be pretty for anyone. Let's hope they haven't finished it. Oh! And on a totally different subject – Forge and I had a little chat the other day, and he's got a little something waiting for you if you ask him about it. I think you'll like it.]

With that, the call ended as quickly as it had started. On contacting Forge moments later, the mutant said he would meet him in the Blackbird's hangar in just a few minutes. He apparently had to grab an item from Beast who was busy using it to fix part of the Danger Room Logan had damaged while venting some pent up aggression.

* * *

"Ah-ha! There you are! Come on, come on! Sit down! You're gonna love this!"

Not really knowing what else to do or why Forge was so eager, the mech knelt beside the Blackbird. When Forge ducked out from behind its landing ramp with a hand-held laser torch eerily similar in design to the ones used to engrave faction crests into Cybertronian armor, he had an inkling of suspicion then. He held out his arm when the mutant requested it.

"Now, this might tingle just a tad..."

Forge switched on the laser torch and began to carve. He watched in silent awe as a familiar "A" rapidly took shape on his shoulder. But Forge didn't stop there. Just below that letter he engraved an encircled "X." A quick few waves of his hand dispersed any lingering smoke.

"There we go! That should keep people from running from or otherwise freaking out when they see you. Now they'll know you're really with the good guys. It should also keep a certain somebody from crumpling you like a soda can if he sees you. Technically we're on friendly terms with him right now since the Brotherhood is operated by Mystique now, not him."

The mech grinned broadly. Yes, this would help immensely. It was a wonder they hadn't been given to him sooner. Maybe they'd wanted to see how well he did before giving him each team's respective crest. And knowing Tony, he'd been so busy in other areas – Chameleon, Zemo and Wonder Man, a possibly surviving Ultron, MECH abducting him, and so many other events – that he simply hadn't gotten around to it. Ah well. Better late than never he supposed. He still had more teams to go as well, and he wasn't even finished with his current one.

Now...now he really felt like one of them though. An Avenger _and _and X-Man. Not a lone wanderer looking for a place to belong and heal, but a hero.

Then the Blackbird started to levitate.

* * *

Galvatron stared at the odd sight before him. He heard Forge shout something, but the sound was drowned out by the loud clang of the mech's body slamming against the side of the hangar – not hard, but enough to leave him blinking stars out of his optics. He felt large slabs of metal wrap around him and hold him in place. Struggling only made them tighten. He would've called on the Falchion, but the metal had pinned his hands against the walls and cocooned them. What-What had just happened? What was going on?

"Erik! Drop him!" a familiar British-accented voice barked curtly. "Now!"

When his sight did recover, he was met with a peculiar sight: Xavier was positioned near the doorway that led to the underground portion of the Institute, expression set in a deep scowl even as alarm shone in his eyes. Wolverine stood at his side, claws retracted. Cyclops and Jean were there two – one with his hand ready to remove his red-quartz glasses, the other using her telekinesis to levitate Forge's laser torch. Hovering above the still-levitating Blackbird, having appeared as if by magic, was a tall man in a deep crimson and purple set of caped armor, a helmet shadowing his face. Only his deep green eyes bore through the darkness.

"Drop him, bub! Or I'll skewer you!" Wolverine snarled.

Still the mystery man refused to drop him or the Blackbird. But he did feel the metal constricting him loosen by a fraction. He knew then – this was a test of courage. The man in the armor was trying to see how easily he could scare him with his mastery over metal. He did not satisfy him with so much as a hint of fear, staring back at him evenly.

"I told you already, Erik! He means us no harm! He's trying to _help _us! Our near-public alliance with the Avengers would have been much more difficult to secure if not for him! He's willing to put his own reputation on the line if it means ending the hatred we face! Drop him this instant – before the cosmic entity protecting him takes this as a direct threat."

The metal loosened further, but he was not released. Still "Erik's" green eyes bored into him as if searching for something. This had quickly turned from a test into an interrogation.

"The grey Seeker." he said, growling. His accent was also British, but it sounded older than Xavier's. The metal tightened.

Galvatron bowed his helm. He knew what the man was upset about.

"I know what Starscream did to you Magneto, and I tell you now I warned him not to interfere with the mutants. By attacking them, by attacking Genosha no less, would be to provoke them and thus many other groups who were allied with them. He stupidly refused to listen to my warning. I apologize for what happened. It was not under my orders he attacked. And believe me when I say it will not happen again. Starscream is off-world and the Decepticons are no more. I personally gave the order for disbandment."

At that, the metal bands around him loosened considerably before being placed back from where they'd been ripped from the walls. The mech dropped to the floor unsteadily. After a brief pause, the man's helmet was removed to reveal an aged but handsome visage crowned with white hair. For some reason now he looked intimidating yet grand, like a king of old had been snatched out of time.

"I was not summoned to Cybertron, only my son and daughter were." Magneto said. "And I am not one to take someone's word for something I can easily confirm for myself, even that of Charles."

The mech managed a wry grin. Rather a shame that he hadn't been on Cybertron then. He could've been immensely helpful. But he was the ruler of a small island nation and extremely protective of them, and Primus was conscientious enough not to leave a nation without its leader.

"A wise policy. I don't blame you for not trusting me even after Xavier probably told you I was. While I did not condone Starscream's actions, I was still his commanding officer. Indirectly I was responsible for the attack he committed on Genosha two years ago, though I understand no one was seriously hurt. You wanted to see if I bore any guilt. I admit I do. That is one of the reasons I am actively helping mutants."

"I see. You wish to redeem your past actions, no matter how indirect. I never would have suspected a former Decepticon was capable of honor. Admirable for someone with your track record. And according to Charles, you might have the means to drive Robert Kelly out of office, cripple the MRD and the Purifiers with one blow, and re-capture the students in the bargain. Is this true as well?"

He nodded. Yes, it was.

"So you _do_ you wish to help?"

Once more the mech nodded.

Xavier breathed a faint sigh of relief. This could have ended very badly. But _thank heaven_ it hadn't. Honesty had won the day and probably saved Galvatron's life. It seemed the two dark horses were willing to cooperate despite their history. And maybe their alien guardian could convince Erik to be less overt in his campaign to protect mutants and instead a little more _co_vert. As Galvatron was proving, you didn't need to resort to extreme measures or semi-villainous acts to do good. You just had to be patient – patient and incredibly stubborn.

And perhaps a little sneaky, too.

* * *

_Forty-eight hours later..._

MIDTOWN MANHATTAN  
47th AND 5th AVENUE, DIAMOND DISTRICT

[Objective: complete. Source of coded transmission: located. Coordinates desired?]

It was literally all Galvatron could do to refrain from shouting his delight for the rest of the state to hear. Soundwave never failed to disappoint. Always, always when he gave the faceless mech a mission, he completed it successfully.

But engaged as he was in a spar with the Brotherhood alongside the X-Men – he specifically with Pyro – he wound up pausing at the exact moment he shouldn't have and got a faceplate full of mutant-controlled fire spewed from a fiery dragon as a result, temporarily blinding him from the glare. Soundwave never failed to disappoint...but slagged if his timing could've been a little better. Only able to conjure weapons, the most he could do to block the attack was hold the Falchion up broad side out and split the oncoming stream. It worked, but a good fraction of the fire still scorched him.

Fortunately for him that Cybertronians were effectively immune to fire unless they were dipped in a vat of magma. Unfortunately for Pyro it resulted in his fire construct being frozen by a sword etched with glyphs that produced magic ice, slashed at, and shattering like glass, raining razor sharp ice shards from above and forcing him to flee out of range – with some very colorful curses tossed his way.

"I'm rather _busy_ at the moment, Soundwave. Forward them to Magneto and Xavier." he answered with a hiss.

[Understood. Assistance: required? External temperature: rising.]

Ice-Man saw the glowing spots on the mech's armor and, abandoning Toad after freezing him solid, focused a beam of ice at the hot spots, making the metal steam as it cooled rapidly. Galvatron, detecting the sudden drop, jerked his helm to face him with a nod of thanks. Useful talent, and he was lucky Cybertronian armor plating could withstand such rapid temperature shifts.

He watched in a certain degree of acute amusement as the fleeing Pyro was sucked up in a tornado and flung three blocks only to impact the side of a building. The mutant crumpled like a rag doll, unmoving. Avalanche thus thought he'd lost his attention and tried to generate an earthquake strong enough to topple him only for Jean to fling a fire hydrant at his helmeted head. Colossus took the advantage, barreling into him like a freight train, grabbing him by the neck with one massive, metal-coated hand, and slamming him head-first against the cement. Cyclops blasted Blob with a powerful, broad beam from his visor, knocking him over like a tree in a storm. That still however left Mystique, Sabertooth, and their pyrotechnic-oriented friend, Boom Boom. Mastermind was not with the group, having been captured in an earlier battle.

Nightcrawler dangled from a lamp-post above the shape-shifter and her female friend, apparently unseen. Galvatron knew what he was up to. He just had to keep their attention off him long enough for him to remain unnoticed.

Mystique sighed and pinched her nose. "Men. Never ones for finesse..."

"Screw finesse!" growled Sabertooth as he and Logan circled. He then proceeded to leap at the other man, claws ready to tear – and was promptly swatted by the tip of a massive blade into the side of a building. Only his healing factor saved him from severe injury, and it also enabled him to get back to his feet as if nothing had happened.

"The woman's got a point. No finesse in your fighting style leaves you vulnerable. If all you do is growl and claw at people, you probably belong in the Staten Island zoo, not the Brotherhood." Galvatron teased. "Or perhaps you belong back in the Ice Age?"

"Oooh! And the big guy gets in a good one!" Bobbie hooted.

Sabertooth snarled and tried to charge the chatty young mutant, but Wolverine reacted faster. Claws retracted, he tackled the taller, burlier man to the ground. Boom Boom tried to assist by flinging dozens of her strange explosive spheres at the brawling men. Wolverine got out of the way in time for Sabertooth to have them detonate all around him like dynamite. This time, bruised and scorched from head to toe, he did not rise. Some ice from Bobbie kept him from moving.

"Oops! Sorry, Creed!" Tabitha managed, not sounding apologetic in the least. "You were supposed to get out of the way!"

'_Who's side is this girl even on?_' Galvatron wondered. She'd attacked her own team mate without any guilt! Sure, she'd been aiming for Logan (maybe) but from the sounds of things she even thought it was funny!

'_I'm...honestly, I'm not entirely_ _certain_.' Primus admitted quizzically. '_Tabitha flits between the Brotherhood and the X-Men so frequently that she might as well be on both squadrons at once, and yet on neither. She has such a tendency for destructive mischief that none can cope with her for long periods. Thus, a sort of...intermittent exchange occurs._'

"Tabitha! Watch your aim!" Mystique snapped.

"Geez. Sorr-ee. Not my fault Sabertooth's one slow son of a –"

She never finished her sentence.

_Bamf!_

Kurt dropped down from the lamp-post, grabbed Boom Boom, and vanished in a cloud of sulfurous blue smoke. He reappeared on the balcony of the nearest building, whipping out a length of rope and using it to tie her arms together. He used the remainder to tie her to the inner side of the banisters. Task complete, he gave a flick of his prehensile tail and a wink and teleported away, landing on Galvatron's shoulder armor. The mech couldn't resist smirking and chuckling. This mutant really was a blur-furred little imp.

"Kurt! Get me down from here! KURT!"

"Sorry, Tabitha! Working with the bad guys, you tend to get a little 'tied up!' Ha-ha!" Nightcrawler laughed.

"AGH! KURT! I'M SERIOUS!" Boom Boom shrieked.

Her cries and protests drew the attention of the X-Men. Not even Logan and Ororo could resist smiling at the humorous sight. Seconds later, Galvatron and Wolverine both heard the light pattering of feet on the pavement and thus lowered their gazes. But the shape-shifting leader of the Brotherhood had all but disappeared from the scene, her white-clothed, blue form nowhere to be seen. Seconds after that came the sounds of wing beats, signaling her taking flight as a winged creature to flee. A bird was seen flying over the rooftops – a black-capped petrel.

Angel flew in its direction while Logan snarled and tried to give chase on foot, but they were stopped by Jean's commanding voice:

"Don't bother, guys. Let her go. Professor X says Soundwave decrypted the transmission and he's got a location. Forwarded it to him and Magneto not even five minutes ago. Magneto's on his way from Genosha right now with Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch. They'll be here within the hour."

"Really?!" Rogue cried. "You mean...you mean we can 'em back?! Right now?!"

"Yes. We can get them back."

* * *

One hour later, a sleek silver jet screamed in from the direction of the Hudson Bay. Curiously, a sleek black jet flew alongside it. Gathered outside on the grounds, the X-Men saw the two aircraft approach, and when they got close enough to pick out details, there was no mistaking the eagle crest of S.H.I.E.L.D adorning the latter. Either Magneto and his children were deemed dangerous enough to have an escort, or S.H.I.E.L.D had gotten wind of their upcoming assault and had decided to join forces. For all Galvatron knew, it could very well have been both.

The two aircraft landed and disgorged their occupants. Out of the silver came a familiar purple and red armored individual, and trailing behind him came a tall, lithely built man in a green and white suit with white hair like Magneto and a slightly shorter woman with scarlet armor above a lighter red bodysuit and a strange, horn-like headdress, a cape flowing behind her. The man he vaguely recognized from Cybertron: Quicksilver. The woman he could only assume was Scarlet Witch. She, however, did not bear her brother or father's white hair for some reason. A quirk in genetics? Or had she dyed it?

Out of the black S.H.I.E.L.D craft came a face Galvatron wasn't expecting to see: Agent Fitz. Behind him came a woman of Asiatic origin whose brown eyes betrayed no emotion, but from the way she walked and the muscles beneath her uniform he knew this was not a woman you wanted as an enemy – she walked in a faintly similar way to the notorious Black Widow. Two men followed behind her: a tall, rather lanky man with striking golden hair and piercing blue eyes, and another man of mixed Asiatic/Caucasian origins whose brown eyes and younger age gave him a quick, lean look.

"Galv!"

Fitz rushed forward without invitation and bounced at the mech's pedes.

"Fitz." he greeted. "I see you brought company with you. Could I ask why you're here?"

"Oh! right. Your buddy Soundwave apparently decided to call in the cavalry for this op. Just playing it safe. You already know me, so say hello to Agent Melinda 'The Cavalry' Mae, Agent Jimmy Wu, and Agent Clay Quartermaine. Coulson wanted to come, but he's busy at a conference with the Inhumans of Attilan."

Quartermaine and Wu...Quartermaine and Wu...He'd heard those names somewhere. Where...? Then it hit him.

"Ah! You must the S.H.I.E.L.D allies of the Avengers. I thought your name sounded familiar, Quartermaine."

Quartermaine laughed: "You probably remember me from Darkmount if Soundy was screwin' with the comm's like I think he was. I was leadin' the charge with Brand and company while Fury and Hill were tryin' to keep a global panic from knockin'. Wu's a friend of Tony's. He used to help oversee the Vault. Till it went sky-high, that is." His Southern drawl was nowhere near as pronounced as Rogue's, but it gave the mech the impression the man belonged on a ranch somewhere.

"And you must be Megatron." said the female mutant in the red armor.

Almost instantly this resulted in a faint snap from Mae that he longer used that name and she quickly corrected the other woman's mistake. Scarlet Witch apologized for the slip-up. She hadn't heard of the name change yet. Genosha was rather...out of the way, and her father hadn't informed them of it.

"Apology accepted." he said. "But let's put pleasantries to the side and get the missing students back before we go any further. Conversation can wait for later."

Raising a hand to his helm, he contacted the medic for a groundbridge. Seconds later one opened, and he vanished into the turquoise green portal.

Forge performed a similar act the instant the vortex snapped closed. But he did not contact Ratchet. He contacted Tony's AI buddy, Jarvis, and asked for him to hack Tony's groundbridge and set it to the target coordinates since Stark was elsewhere. The AI did not disappoint, a 'bridge opening seconds later for the mutants to use. Without hesitation the the Genoshan mutants and the small team of S.H.I.E.L.D officers darted into the waiting portal.

* * *

They emerged into a heavily forested area covered with cedars, hemlocks, cottonwoods and aspen trees. Sunlight was reduced to a mere golden speckling on the ground. A stream trickled by a few dozens yards away. The only thing counteracting this strangely pleasant environment was the lack of animal sounds. No birds seemed to perch in these trees, and no small woodland critters scurried around on the leaf-littered ground. It was as if they'd fled the area in fear.

"Somethin' don't smell right..." growled Logan.

Wu, Mae, and Quartermaine hefted their issued blasters instinctively on hearing the mutant say that, his mutant allies following suite. Wolverine was never wrong when it came to his nose. If he said something wasn't right, you could pretty much take it for granted that it was true. But what though? Nothing seemed to be wrong with the woods, and nothing sounded like it was about to jump out and attack them.

"I'm not detecting anything on my scanners." Galvatron admitted slowly. "Then again, I'm not one to be trusted on that. My scanners aren't quite as sensitive as they used to be despite Forge's efforts."

He switched out of the visual range and into infrared. That was the thing with terrestrial creatures – they tended to output lots of heat due to internal processes. They would contrast heavily with the cooler air of the forest.

There was nothing up in the trees...but there was on the ground. And the signatures weren't coming from the humans at his pedes, either. These heat signatures were far larger and far, far more numerous. A quick count totaled almost twenty of the things. They stalked around at the edges of the area, hundreds of paces away from where they were. The forms were hunched over and walked like giant dogs, yet their shapes were more reptilian. And they looked as if they had insect-like armored hides. One of the targets walked into the speckled sunlight and its hide flashed as if made of metal.

And they were getting closer with every passing second.

He froze. The humans noticed.

"What?" Jean demanded. "What is it?"

"Trouble?" Scott guessed. Galvatron didn't scare easy, yet he'd gone stiff as a post, and there was a glimmer of alarm in his red optics as they flicked around the area. His advanced, multi-spectrum eyes could see something out there they couldn't. Whatever it was, it was making him nervous.

In a voice so hushed as to be almost inaudible, the mech replied cryptically:

"We're surrounded. There's...there's something out there. Multiple heat signatures. And they seem to be closing in on our location. I think...I think they can smell us."

"What are they?" Colossus and Shadowcat wondered softly in near perfect unison.

"...Predators. Unlike anything I've seen on this planet."

Wu tensed. His eyes widened. "Oh no...they actually did it. The MRD did it. Oh, Fury's not going to be happy about this..."

"What? Did what?" Rogue snapped. What the hell was with everyone being so vague right now?

From around and out of the undergrowth emerged twenty creatures the size of black bears that resembled gigantic quadrupedal reptiles. The creatures' fang-filled maws dripped with saliva and emitted low growling sounds, and their knife-like claws dug into the ground. Their armored hides glittered gunmetal grey. Their eyes burned toxic yellow. Razor-like spines adorned their backs. They paused at the edge of the clearing the arrivals were in, behaving as if they were waiting for a master command. Everyone knew it would be coming, too. But first they were being sized up.

"Predator X." said Wu.

Their situation went from bad to worse when the woodlands began to shake as if from a small earthquake. Hollow metallic banging noises soon reached their ears – a noise that made their alien guardian snarl and summon his blade.

"_Intruders: found. Removal: commencing._" droned a familiar robotic, monotone voice.

"Oh, perfect. Sentinels, too." Quartermaine deadpanned. "This must be one of the rogue MRD stations. Might be one of Trask's labs even. Heavily guarded."

Galvatron glanced down at him? Rogue? He thought the MRD worked with S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Oh, they did. Till they decided to test their Sentinels on the Institute. We cut ties with 'em afterwards. S.H.I.E.L.D protects, and we're not supposed to take sides like that. Politically, we're neutral. They became federally funded after that – wholly government. Stupid decision obviously. What we really did was cut their leash. And they've been busy during that time."

Some of the trees around the clearing shuddered and a few even collapsed as the towering purple forms of the Sentinels stomped in to join the strange predator pack. There were five in total. One of them, however, looked different than the others, its colors darker and its optic sensors red instead of yellow. Like its normally colored brothers, its red optic sensors glowed, and each lifted their hands to reveal repulsor-like blasters on their palms.

"_Removal: commencing._" the Sentinels said as one.

They fired at the same moment the predator pack lunged.


	35. Chapter 35: Lost and Found Part 2

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 35**

_*Note to sentinels: Kelly didn't rip off the Vehicon colors. The specially colored one is actually a "Mega-Sentinel" from Marvel Heroes. It's a special Sentinel that's way stronger than the ordinary ones you fight in the game._

_*Note 1: Angel, Beast, Amara, Forge, Kurt, and a few of the others are not here. They're back guarding home base._

* * *

"Soundwave, now!"

The shout came from their alien guardian the instant the beasts had leapt at them. The mutants and agents readied to attack, activating their powers and aiming their blasters at the armored predators. Time seemed to slow as they drew ever closer, jaws agape and claws extended to rip and tear. Magneto to rip one of the Sentinels arms clean off while Galvatron hefted his blade to deflect the incoming energy shots...

But it turned out that no one needed to fire a single shot at the Predator X pack. There was a whooshing, roaring sound that split the air and a flash of turquoise green light that appeared in front of the group: a groundbridge.

And so the pack, unable to pull back in time, leapt not at the mutants but straight into the waiting portal. The fired energy blasts followed them through, and with a loud and airy sounding snap the portal closed. The pack of predators and the dangerous shots were thus gone in an instant. The Sentinels halted temporarily in their attack, powering down their blasters as they analyzed the energy of the portal. Knowing their slow, computeristic brains it would probably take them a minute or so to puzzle it out. Groundbridges weren't exactly common on this planet, as only two existed.

"What...? Who...? What just happened?" Quicksilver gaped. And here he'd been hoping to show off his speed to the X-Men's newest member by corralling the things! God dammit! "Summers, what the hell just happened?"

"Soundwave!" cried Fitz happily. "Nice call, Galv!"

"Where'd he 'bridge them to?" Mae wondered. Privately she wondered why Fury hadn't informed her of the alien hacker being on Earth. A security risk like him ought to be on a priority alert system.

He smirked down at them. "Into the open caldera of Mount Kilauea in Hawaii. They won't be bothering anyone again."

Everyone had the grace to gawk at him, even Magneto.

"Can I hug you now?" Bobbie asked, arms out. This guy. This guy was freaking amazing. He had a living portal gun at his command! And he'd just used it. Like. A. Boss!

"_Analysis: incomplete. Resuming previous command sequence._"

"You can hug him later, Drake." Cyclops said in a short clip of a voice. Then his voice rose to one of command: "X-Men – take 'em down!"

S.H.I.E.L.D Agent, mutant, and alien alike charged the towering metal automatons looming above the treeline.

* * *

MUTANT RESPONSE DIVISION HOLDING FACILITY OMEGA-RED  
LOCATION: NORTHERN VIRGINIA

The group of young mutants had lost track of time after three weeks had gone by. There were no clocks in the facility that they could see, no windows to see the sun outside, and only their natural body clocks told them whether or not it was night or day beyond the walls. Each bore cuts, scratches, and bruises on their bodies still in the process of healing. Pixie's pretty pink wings were now tattered, shredded by what looked like massive claws.

About a week ago they'd been let outside per the orders of the guy in charge of the place. They said they were going to be helping test something. They argued of course protested, but they'd been dragged out of their cells against their wills, collars still clamped around their necks. In an ironic twist, none of the mutants had wanted to go outside. They could sense purely through instinct that whatever it was they were going to be"testing" was dangerous to them. There had been a certain dark pleasure in the voices of the helmeted Mardies who dragged them, unwilling, into the open air.

And they'd been right.

Each of them had taken advantage of the opportunity presented to them and tried to run north through the woods, sticking together for safety. They'd been getting hopeful after five minutes of no issues. Of course, that good luck hadn't lasted longer than those five minutes. At the six minute mark, Rahne's wolf form had growled a warning to them. Moments later a pack of vicious lizard-like animals the size of black bears and covered in gunmetal grey armor ambushed them. They'd tried to fight, but without their powers they were nothing more than target practice for the animals. Each had gone down. But right when they thought they were going to die, the animals had backed off. Mardies had appeared out of the woods and taken them back inside, a medic tending to their wounds before sticking them back in their cells.

"We're never getting out, are we?" Jamie mumbled, eyes watering as he held back his tears. His arms and legs stung from the damage he and his copies had taken from the monsters. Rahne whimpered beside him, having been allowed to stay with him for some reason. Her entire body was covered in white bandages.

"I don't know, kid. I don't know..." Surge sighed. "I've been here longer than you. I just don't know anymore..."

"C'mon, guys. Have a little faith. I'm sure your X-Men pals are looking for us!" Pixie reassured in a desperately chipper tone.

Almost in prophetic response, alarms began to klaxon throughout the holding area. Division officers scrambled from out of the connecting halls, loading their weapons as a voice over the loudspeaker told them that the facility was under attack and that their Predator X drones had vanished off the grounds. Feed from their vital monitors had been cut off. The Sentinels had been reduced to scrap metal, only their prototype remaining to hold off the attackers. All forces were to join the prototype and help push the invaders back.

Jubilee's eyes widened. "You think...?"

"Totally!" Pixie cried ecstatically. "It has to be the X-Men! Who else could take out those weird armored lizard-bear things?!" She peered through the walls of her cell and to the right where Caliban was. "Cal, is it the X-Men? Can you sense mutants?"

Caliban said nothing to begin with as his senses reached out into the woodlands. They never saw the pale-skinned, yellow-eyed mutant smile.

"Mutants, yes. Strong ones. Many hold much power. One...can sense lightning in her; gales, and maelstroms rage. Storms roil within her..."

A loud clap of thunder shook the building like a small earthquake. The lighting inside flickered as something made the building's power become unstable. The lights then went out, leaving only the red glow of the emergency lights.

"Ms. Ororo!" Jamie shrieked in delight, forgetting the sting of his wounds. Another clap of thunder confirmed it. "Storm's here!"

"See?! What'd I tell you guys?" Pixie laughed.

* * *

The last Sentinel, the one not colored the same, refused to go down like its brethren. No amount of lightning from Storm could short-circuit it, no blasts from Cyclops or the Agents could stagger or blind it, Wolverine's adamantium claws did little except from scratch its metal armor, and it was simply too heavy for Jean to lift. Not even Magneto's magnetism could affect it for some reason, which plainly annoyed the man to no end.

"Will this damned thing just die already?!" Wolverine snarled.

"Logan, it's a robot! It can't die! It's just lots of computer coding in an armored frame!" Fitz clarified from the sidelines.

Quicksilver slowed just long enough to snap out: "Well then why don't you shut it down, brainiac?!" A laser shot from the Sentinel forced him back into super-speed to avoid it.

Galvatron lunged at the towering machine, blocking a blast meant for the Agents. The high powered blast shattered his blade and struck him in the chestplates, forcing him to stagger back with a hiss. This thing was different than the others – stronger, better coded. Hopefully Fitz's analysis could find a weak spot, because he wasn't getting anything helpful other than the tin can's body being made of adamantium. That might explain why he and Logan weren't able to make a dent. Whoever had built this thing had anticipated Wolverine's claws, his enchanted Falchion – _and _Magneto's magnetic control.

"Wanda, try your hexes! See if it is immune to them!" Magneto called down to her. "I doubt they will be! Not even Trask can prepare for the impossible!"

Until that moment, Scarlet Witch had been defending the quartet of Agents from energy blasts and laser shots with the help of Shadowcat and Colossus. Now she turned her attention onto the firer itself. Her eyes flashed red and her hands became engulfed in red energy. Her hands raised, targeting the Sentinel, and red energy enveloped it in a flash, sinking into its frame moments later. For a while, nothing seemed to happen. The Sentinel continued to fire and stomp and swipe at the mutants, Agents, and Galvatron as if the energy had done literally nothing to it.

"Wow. I'm _so_ impressed." Quicksilver deadpanned.

"Wait! Sometimes it takes a bit, Pietro!" Scarlet Witch snapped back.

But still it kept up with its attack. For nearly three full minutes nothing happened. Then the Sentinel paused, stating:

"_Error. Cooling system: damaged. Energy dischargers: overheating. Unable to compensate. Attempting to correct..._"

The Sentinel raised its right hand to fire off another blast...

_KA-BOOM!_

And its right hand promptly blew itself to pieces. It looked at its mangled, sparking limb blankly.

"Alright, Wanda! Way to go!" cheered Jean.

"Storm! The interior wiring is exposed! Shock and drop!" Fitz called up to her.

"With pleasure!"

The weather witch raised her hands to the skies, eyes glowing white as lightning sparked from them. The already gathered storm clouds above darkened to an angry dark grey. Winds began to whip through the trees, bending them over like stooping old men. Rumbling thunder turned into deafening claps that split the skies. Flashes of lightning danced among the grey as the thunderstorm gathered more and more energy. All the while the Sentinel stared blankly at its mangled limb as if it simply couldn't compute why or how the damage had occurred.

_KRA-KOOM!_

A massive bolt of lightning, easily as wide as an old oak tree trunk, arced down from the grey skies and connected with the Sentinel's damaged limb. Electricity danced up its arm and over the rest of its body. Its red optic sensors flickered from the surge. The glare from the bolt died after less than a second, revealing the Sentinel standing firmly in its place, stiff and blackened from the attack. Smoke coiled off it.

"Scott, if you would." Jean offered, politely gesturing.

Cyclops aimed for the machine. His visor flashed and brightened a mere half second before a wave of red energy surged out from behind it, nailing the Sentinel square in the chest. The sheer force behind the blast made it topple like a felled tree with a hollow bang. Galvatron rammed the tip of his blade into its head for good measure, splitting it open like a cracked egg. The red glow of its optical sensors died quickly.

"Alright! Woo!" Bobbie hooted, jumping in victory. "We did it, uh-huh! We did it, uh-huh!"

"We're not done yet." Wolverine snarled. "We got more incoming. Mardies. Lots of 'em!"

"Ha! Watch and learn, Wolvy!" Quicksilver grinned.

In a blur of green and white he zipped off, returning seconds later with an armful of guns which he dropped on the ground. Magneto and Jean in unison lifted them to the air and snapped the weapons in half. From the annoyed shouts and swears in the distance it was clear the speedster had only disarmed the officers, not taken them out. He'd probably made their fight easier, but wouldn't it have been even easier if he'd bothered to take out the troops? Or was the fastest mutant on Earth just plain lazy?

"Magneto, Shadowcat, Wolverine, take point with me. We'll deal with MRD troops." Mae ordered briskly. "Everyone else keep an eye on our flank and follow behind us. Storm? Eyes on the skies for us. Make sure no reinforcements pay us a visit. If you find anything technology based out here – deep fry it."

The weather witch nodded once and flew off. Blaster aimed, Mae took off deeper into the woods with the three mutants right behind her.

* * *

FORT STRYKER  
LOCATION: [REDACTED]

"Agh! I don't believe this!"

Stryker fumed as he stared at the now blank black screen that had moments ago relayed data from the M-Class Sentinel. Trask had designed this prototype to be much more dangerous to the mutants by actively counteracting their abilities via the MasterMold program. Bolivar had had every confidence it could handle every X-Men and common mutant power documented. He'd especially planned for Magneto's talent and – with some advice from some old tomes lent by Sinister – attempted to equip the M-Class with a means to block magic as well.

Despite all those countermeasures, the M-Class had still been taken out. The one mutant Trask simply couldn't counteract was Scarlet Witch. Her hexes toyed with probability and reality itself according to reports, which explained why the Sentinel's cooling system had so suddenly and inexplicably failed. How could you prepare for the impossible?

"Calm yourself, Stryker_. _They may retrieve these mutants, but we still have the girl. That is what matters."

The man glanced behind him almost abstractedly, taking note of the sight in the shadows with some discomfort. He was still uncomfortable receiving aid from Sinister. If the public found out about this alliance it could put the entirety of the MRD in jeopardy and fracture support for the Purifiers.

"Calm? Those nuisances just destroyed months of work in minutes! Trask assured me this prototype was far better than the original Sentinels, and now it's nothing more than a char-broiled scrap heap!"

"Then perhaps Trask's workmanship needs...refinement. My ally's offer still stands."

"Taking aid from you is one thing, Essex. I will not condone working with a chaos lord whose only impulse is annihilation of everyone and everything. Their aid is always two-faced. I'm surprised you accepted a deal from him. You're normally much more cautious than that."

"True. But as of yet I have not observed any negative side effects to this arrangement. If anything, my powers have increased. So have the girl's. In any event, he gains from the discord between _homo superior _and _homo sapiens_. He has no reason to want it to stop. I want only the fittest mutants to survive, and you, Robert, and Bolivar want their numbers contained. So in that light we all benefit from this."

"And what does your out-of-country contractor think of this?" Stryker asked suspiciously.

"He...does not yet know." Sinister admitted slowly. "But I don't think he will argue with the results. After all, dealings with supernatural and cosmic entities is nothing new to him. That is how he gained his powers. Of course, he usually kills the deal-giver to prevent any unwanted back-stabbing. I'm not sure he can do that in this particular instance. Killing what could very well be a primordial force is easier said than done."

Stryker snorted and said nothing. He did not tell Sinister that he was effectively in collusion with the Cybertronian version of the arch-demon Mephistopheles. Deals with the devil never ended well, and nothing was ever free with such beings – though they often neglected to tell their mortal servant of the fine print. He had the feeling Essex would come to regret the alliance he had made, as he assumed so many before him had, with the mechanical demon beneath their feet.

* * *

Red.

That was the color that met the assault team when they entered the semi-underground facility. Not red from blood – though Wolverine had said he could smell some, which was not the best of signs – but red from emergency lighting. Storm's bolt had taken out the main generator or power source the MRD facility ran on, leaving it running solely on back-up power. They ran through the red halls, Logan in the lead per his abilities as a tracker. Luckily, the halls were big enough to permit their alien ally's vehicle form, and they could only hope the larger chambers were big enough to permit transformation.

No officers appeared to stop them down the many halls they ran and flew, the on-site forces having all been drawn outside where they all now lay, pummeled and battered from Colossus's, Jean's, Rogue's and Quicksilver's combined assault. Mae found that suspicious – but then, she was always suspicious. Hopefully Storm would keep any reinforcements away while they secured their objective. But...was there something else in the facility, a fail-safe of some type? The MRD was occasionally brash, but they weren't stupid.

"Logan? Where the hell are they?" Wu hollered.

"Keep going! I can smell 'em! Blood scents!" growled Wolverine.

"Any idea who's blood it is?" Colossus asked.

"The kids. All of 'em: Rahne, Jamie, Jubilee. Others, too. Can't ID those. Never smelled 'em before. Three unknown targets. Blood comin' from them, too."

"Others mutants they've captured probably." Cyclops guessed grimly. "We'll free them along with our kids and get them medical attention."

He did not voice his horrible suspicion to Logan, for knew the nearly century old mutant thought the same thing: the smell of blood meant their kids were injured, and probably recently, too. He didn't care who'd done it; Scott Summers just cared that they'd been hurt at all. The MRD were rough, and in Emma's words "uncouth," but brutally violent? Only the Purifiers went so far as to actually hurt or kill mutants. Most the MRD had ever done was cause a few bruises and burning eyes from tear gas. Normally they weren't this violent, and that was a bad sign. Quartermaine was right – thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D cutting ties with them, they'd only cut their leash.

But there was one problem with Logan's statement: he'd said "all the kids" but had neglected to mention Adaryn. What about her?

They took a turn down another tunnel, entering into a much larger chamber lined with prison cells. At first they saw no one through the dark and the red. Then:

"Mr. Logan!" cried a young male voice from slightly above them.

It was Jamie.

* * *

Magneto wasted no time, wrenching the bars off the occupied cells with a mere flick of his hands. He did not resist the desire to frown at the sights within. Each young mutant was wrapped in bandages, and the wolf at Jamie's side was the worst off. She looked as if she'd been mauled by a bear, and obviously was in too much pain to revert back to her human form. That the MRD had bothered to tend to their injuries was some small consolation to him, but they needed real doctors to ward off infections, not hastily slapped on bandages.

"Ms. Grey? Bring Rahne and Jamie down. Gently." he requested.

Phoenix complied, using her telekinesis to bring the bandaged wolf and the self-replicating mutant down to ground level. Agent Mae immediately swooped down on them both, Fitz handing her a portable first-aid kit.

He watched Galvatron reach into the cell with Jubilee, gently scooping her up in his massive metal hands. The alien did this with the remaining mutants, leaving them in the care of Agent Mae. He loomed over them all, red mechanical eyes ever watchful of his surroundings. Every so often he'd look down to check on them. He noticed none of the children seemed wary of him at all. They were very relaxed around him, which rather surprised the mutant ruler. Here he was, a titan among mice, and yet none of them feared him.

Magneto had to admit he was nothing like the personality he'd come to view him as in the past. He was...kinder. Gentler. Coarse, yes, but he truly felt the need to defend mutants from outside hatred. And with all the evidence he'd managed to gather, and actually hang on to, he could very well solve their problem. The injured mutants here in this hidden facility were the last straw that he needed. He'd knock Kelly right out of office and thus disband the MRD. The Purifiers? Well, once those two problems were dealt with the hate group wouldn't have as much fuel to feed its fanatical fire – because they'd get "Reverend" Stryker as well. They'd be actively hunted instead of seen as a dangerous nuisance.

"What happened to you guys?" he heard Shadowcat murmur, kneeling beside the little huddle of children.

"Those _kuso yarō _decided to use us as test subjects for those monsters." the new mutant with the electric blue hair spat. "Didn't even bother to give us a fighting chance and take these damned collars off." She tugged at the collar around her neck suggestively.

"Allow me, then."

Magneto bunched one gloved hand into a fist – and the collars promptly shattered.

"You guys get rid of 'em?" asked the winged mutant.

Scott gestured up to their towering friend, saying: "Thank Galvatron. His buddy Soundwave ripped open a hole in space-time and dropped 'em into a volcano. That work for you?"

At that, every single wounded mutant smiled...and then broke out laughing.

"You are so old school! And I love it!" Jubilee laughed. "Volcanoes for the win! Amara's totally gonna wanna hear that one!"

But the returned smile the metal titan gave them was...disconcerted. Something was bothering him. His red gaze scanned the rows of cells.

"Where is Adaryn?"

Their mirth died with finality.

Jamie massaged his arms as he said: "We...we don't know. She was taken away the instant we got here. We tried having Caliban run a sweep for her – that's his power; he can sense mutants – after the MRD guys took off with her, but h-he didn't find anything. Rahne said that could mean she's just out of range of Cal's powers...or it could mean she's got a collar and _her _powers are shut off, so he can't sense her."

"Could be both. Caliban not sure." said the pale-skinned mutant with the yellow eyes. "But kept trying after suggestion. Caliban thinks that 'Adaryn' off site. Heard officer who grabbed her say some 'boss' had plans for her. Not sure what was meant by that. Maybe...maybe they take collar off to test powers there? Only makes sense. Seemed very interested in her."

"So..." Galvatron eyed him curiously. "You think Adaryn is at some other facility? And there's a very good chance it is out of range of your sensory ability?"

Caliban nodded, not at all encouraged by the budding frown on the alien's metal face. His sensory power spiked with unknown energy seconds later, a spike reminiscent of imploding dynamite. He wisely scooched away from their alien guardian, yellow eyes apprehensive. Something was about to happen – and judging from that power spike alone, it would _not_ be pretty.

And that assumption turned out to be completely right.

* * *

Galvatron let the mutant's words sink in, his frown deepening into a scowl within seconds. Anger, frustration, anxiety, and a need for vengeance burned through his spark like a wildfire until it very nearly consumed it entirely. Only the soothing presence within kept it from doing just that.

Unable to contain his frustration, the mech gave a screaming howl of a roar and slammed his balled fist into the nearest wall, making the structure tremble imperceptibly from the titanic blow. His air intakes, no longer forcibly calm, were shorter and sounded like angry serpent hisses. Unseen by him, his red eyes burned like fires, darkening in a flash before brightening back to their normal shade. His fist remained clenched and against the wall.

"Slagging Pit-fire!" he swore hoarsely.

This...all their hard work, all the luck they'd had...and they wouldn't be bringing home all the missing mutant children today. Had it all been for nothing?! All of this had happened because he'd been stupid enough to leave the Institute almost entirely undefended. What if Sinister had turned her into a monster? What if he'd killed her? He couldn't have that on his conscience. Oh, the instant he got his hands on Stryker or Sinister, he'd rend them alive! They deserved nothing less after abducting, hurting these innocent children! And Adaryn...he could only imagine what horrors they might have inflicted on her already if Caliban's theory were true.

'_Galvatron. Calm, child. Calm. Easy. Easy..._' the voice in his helm soothed gently.

Something wrapped around his raging life-force like a warm embrace, its own lighter heat cooling the hot wrath he was feeling. His air intakes became steadier. The fist unclenched half-way.

"Take it easy, big guy. Just...take it easy." Bobbie said warily, hands up.

Magneto took note of the sudden emotional swing and the sudden, mildly apprehensive looks in the eyes of the mutants. It seemed they were in fact still wary of him, and that a flicker of Megatron's notorious temper remained. He did note curiously that the Agents didn't seem off-put by the outburst. Perhaps that temper had always been there.

"We'll get her back, Galvatron. I promise. The mission's not done til all these kids are safe and sound back at the X-Men base." Agent Mae said. "That's S.H.I.E.L.D Rule Number Two: the mission doesn't end till all objectives have been met. Rule Number One is to protect anyone who needs us. The mutants...they need us now."

He gusted out a sigh as the hand unclenched entirely and fell to his side.

"We'll find her, pal. Count on it." Scott said. "X-Men don't leave each other behind. Hell, no good superhero team does that. It's kinda just part of the rule-book – don't abandon your team mates. I mean, come on. That's not even superhero code; that's just common decency."

"But first we need to get these _deti_ back home so a medic can examine them and treat their wounds. We do not want infection to set in." Colossus reminded them. He glanced up at the emotionally haggard alien. "You...wouldn't happen to know Jane Foster's phone number...would you?"

* * *

AVENGERS MANSION  
FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

Jane had had a very busy two days. First, Zemo had cropped up once again and, with some help from Baron Strucker and the Red Skull, had inserted a dangerous toxin into the air circulation system. It had spread rapidly, and within less than ten minutes minutes each of the Avengers, minus Thor and the Hulk, had fallen ill from the effects. Only a respirator she kept on hand since the Skull's first biological attack had kept her from falling ill as well. If not for Doc Sampson paying a visit and identifying that it was a variation of Strucker's "death spore" virus there had been a disturbing chance of each of the afflicted Avengers dying. Not fun for her during or after.

Today had been equally stressful. Loki had decided to pay the Mansion a surprise visit to continue his sibling rivalry with Thor, and he'd managed to beat the daylights out of the Avengers with very little effort. Only Cap and the Hulk had posed a distinct challenge to him, not to mention Thor himself. Luckily that issue had been resolved rather quickly thanks to some quick thinking on the part of T'Challa and Ant-Man who had rigged a device to make Loki's magic backfire on him. Unluckily many of the Avengers bore serious bruising and – in poor Jan and Clint's cases – broken bones. Jan had suffered a broken arm and shattered wrist and Clint now had a concussion _plus _three hairline fracture in his left arm.

Which he was very insistent on being _very _vocal about with her.

And so now she was huddled up in a light blanket on the sofa using the Asgardian's broad arms as a headrest, eyes shut as she purposefully napped to ignore the annoying, near constant beeps of her ID card telling of Clint's continual tirade via text message. Thor didn't seem to mind in the least. One arm was draped over her shoulders, his helmet-less head lolling to one side, his own eyes shut. He was as exhausted as she was. It had been a long two days.

"_Ms. Foster? Jane? Jane Foster, can you hear me? Please answer. It's urgent._"

Jane jolted awake, her eyes snapping open. She recognized that voice.

"Galv?" she asked rather blearily. "Is that you? What is it?" Thor stirred at the sound but did not wake.

"_I apologize for waking you. But..._"

He quickly explained the situation. From the pauses it was clear he was getting input from someone.

"_Could we use the Mansion __infirmary? The X-Men know basic first-aid, they have their own infirmary, and I admit Shadowcat is talented in the healer's field, but these wounds are severe despite being a week old. They need a physician. You are a code blue responder are you not?_"

Tired as the woman was, she hadn't the heart to say no to him. And if there was one thing she would never decline even under sentence of death, it was injured children. Her natural mother's instincts simply wouldn't allow that.

"Of course you can, Galv. The doors to the infirmary – _my _infirmary – are always open. You _are _an Avenger. Have Ratchet 'bridge you and the others to the sub-levels. I'll meet you there. I'll have June come, too. I could use the extra set of hands."

"_Thank you, Ms. Foster._"

Jane rose, being careful not to disturb the burly Asgardian peacefully snoozing on the sofa. She didn't succeed as well as she liked, and Thor woke. His blue eyes fastened on her in an instant.

"Is something amiss?"

She told him a shortened version of Galvatron's report. His blue eyes widened.

"You say one of them is gifted with control of lightning?"

"Yeah. Kid goes by the nickname "Surge" apparently."

Thor rose, grabbing his hammer off the low coffee table. "I will come with you. Perhaps Mjolnir's lightning could compliment hers, even heal her."

Jane didn't exactly know whether or not to agree, but she had to admit the idea was at the least plausible. If Surge's body acted like a conduit for static electricity like she suspected, and her powers had been dampened for quite some time, thus leaving her starved for energy, maybe she needed a good jolt to get her body back to its peak. Asgardian lightning _was _magical after all, so it was not simply destructive alone. Tony's armor was able to absorb it. Given the right receiver, like Surge, it might heal instead of harm.

"Little bit crazy if you ask me, but it's worth a shot, I guess. Come on."

* * *

**Author's Note: I am so sorry for the delay! I'm presently swamped in writing projects for school and craziness with Comp II and an international student interview for that class and reading for Lit and writing for Astronomy and test in PoliSci and not going to sleep til 4 this morning from stress...It's just been insanity here lately. Barely had time to write other than as a stress reliever for short intervals.**


	36. Chapter 36: Choice

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 36**

* * *

JANET VAN DYNE'S PENTHOUSE APARTMENT  
WEST 42ND STREET, MIDTOWN MANHATTAN

June Darby considered herself lucky. She had survived against metal titans from space confusing her life hopelessly, one even using her as bait to try and kill her son and his alien motorcycle. She had survived being associated indirectly with the Avengers and thus their many, many enemies. She had survived her home being leveled by the fortress of Darkmount. Oh, yes. Luck liked her family and friends.

Being friends with the Autobots and Avengers had its fair share of risk to be sure – supervillains and terrorist organizations being the two main threats. But the latter especially also had some very nice perks. Being able to stay in a luxury penthouse apartment owned by fashion designer Janet Van Dyne was one of them. Wasp had even purchased some additional furniture to better accommodate the two families living there. Raf's family was not among them though the tween often visited. His family had found a house in Cloudcroft, New Mexico with help from Fowler, far removed from the super-powered chaos of New York.

That the penthouse hadn't been so much considered as a target by attacking supervillains for as long as she, her son, and his two friends and their families had been living there was nothing short of a miracle in her mind. Perhaps that was to due to the ever looming threat of S.H.I.E.L.D, the shadowy espionage organization keeping a close watch on the place and surrounding regions through cameras, bugs, and even the occasionally stationed agent or two.

Admittedly, there had been a few close calls since they had moved in. Once, very soon after Darkmount's destruction, she had witnessed a duel between Doctor Strange and Baron Mordo in the streets just below them, the two flinging spells at each other violently. Luckily the Sorcerer Supreme had led the fight elsewhere. Another time, Spider-Man had swung by, fleeing a very angry, symbiote-snared Wizard. The friendly wall-crawler had jumped on the window to catch his breath before swinging onwards. Whether or not he'd known they were inside she couldn't say. More recently she had viewed aerial footage on the news of a firefight between the X-Men (and Galvatron) and the Brotherhood, the friendly mutant team winning out in the end thanks in no small part to their titanic friend.

And so the nurse had grown surprisingly relaxed. The three kids were attending Midtown High School at the moment and, despite the visits from some of Spider-Man's enemies, life was fairly normal. They were all doing well despite Miko's foster family and June herself still house hunting. Miko's family believed they had found one, so they were away dealing with the arrangements through Fowler. June had even gotten a job at the hospital Jane Foster worked at.

The nurse frankly would have felt fine if she could stay here, but she did not want to impose forever on Wasp's generosity.

She picked up her cell phone on hearing it buzz repeatedly. She was surprised to see Jane's caller ID. Jack and Miko watched her answer from the sofa where the former was tutoring the latter on trigonometry problems. Miko didn't seem to be paying much attention. Today, an agent was stationed in the apartment with them: a tall woman with short-cut hair and an orange and black lightly armored uniform. She had said her field name was Quake, but she much referred to go by Daisy.

"Jane? What is it?"

Jack saw his mother's face pale on hearing what the other woman had to say. Her eyes widened.

"Of course I'll help. Get Tony to groundbridge me there. Ratchet's 'bridge is down today for some 'necessary maintenance' so he told me."

"Something up, Ms. Darby?" Daisy wondered curiously.

"Lemme guess: Galv got himself clobbered again, didn't he?" Miko joked, grinning.

Everyone was less than reassured when June replied with a truly grim frown.

"Daisy? she asked. "Could you watch them for a bit? I'm needed at Avengers Mansion."

Quake smiled and nodded, saying she'd keep an eye on the kids. If they didn't cause any trouble she might even show them her powers or teach them a few moves.

A groundbridge swirled open. The nurse vanished inside, leaving the S.H.I.E.L.D operative Quake in charge of the penthouse. Seconds later it closed. Miko instantly fasted her gaze on the woman, eyes glittering eagerly. Quake shifted uneasily at that look, unused to dealing with minors – civilian minors no less. All she knew for certain thanks to the Avengers and Fury's dossiers was that Miko was trouble incarnate. She did not like the look the girl was giving her now.

"So...you kids need help with anything?"

* * *

AVENGERS MANSION, SUB-LEVEL INFIRMARY  
FIFTH AVENUE, MIDTOWN MANHATTAN  
TIME: 4:00 P.M.

Having never actually been in the infirmary before, June was stunned firstly at how advanced it was. State of the art medical equipment was scattered around the room, some of which she had never seen before. It was also incredibly crowded – almost all of the Avengers plus a good number of X-Men and some S.H.I.E.L.D officers were down here, either keeping an eye out, talking, or helping. She was startled to see Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. She even spotted a dark, winged figure lurking in the pale shadows in one corner of the room, red eyes burning like fire with badly repressed anger. There was no mistaking those red eyes – Galvatron. It struck her that this was the first time she had ever seen the alien's holo-form.

But her eyes were quickly drawn to the third stunning observation: the medical cots. On five of them were young people ranging in age from thirteen to nineteen, and on a sixth was a thick furred brown wolf. All of them were covered in bandages, some of which were being actively removed by Jane, Shadowcat, T'Challa, and Wasp to reveal ugly wounds beneath...wounds that looked all too much like claw and bite marks. They had not healed well.

Her face paled at the sight.

"What...what on Earth did this?" she breathed.

Captain Rogers whipped around to look at her.

"Long story, Ms. Darby." Cap said. He eyed Galvatron carefully as he continued: "Short version: kids got abducted by the MRD over a month ago and about a week ago were used to test out some genetic project Wu says is called 'Predator X.' Kids couldn't fight back. They were having their powers dampened. You can see the results of that for yourself."

"And what is Predator X exactly? I gather it's some kind of artificial animal, going by the injuries alone."

"Predator X was an old project Colonel Moss of the MRD wanted to test out, envisioned by Bolivar Trask before he set up the Sentinels. Was mothballed by S.H.I.E.L.D when they brought it to us for approval." Mae explained. "The end results would have been too violent and too dangerous, endangering civilians as well. I just never thought they'd pull it off. Or that they'd be sick enough to turn the monsters on kids. Kids! What were they thinking?" The Asian woman shook her head.

"One has to wonder where they received the funding and resources for such a complicated project after their dismissal." Vision mused. "Without S.H.I.E.L.D backing them, the Mutant Response Division is now a self-reliant organization. It must be stemming from somewhere."

The noise in the room lowered as the two nurses set to work together on Rahne. The poor wolf-shifting mutant whined almost constantly at the sting and burn of the water that Jane Foster carefully poured over them. Jamie, Jubilee, and the three new mutants did not fare much better despite the gentility of T'Challa, Kitty, Cap, Mae, and Wasp; Jamie and the girl with the tattered insect wings looked on the verge of tears from how badly their own wounds stung. Thor himself tended to Surge with Mjolnir, holding the hammer near while she kept a hand on it, letting her absorb the magical lightning it generated. Each adult let one of the young mutants squeeze their hand while another helped re-apply antibiotic soaked bandages.

"Galvatron?" T'Challa asked. "Would your, ah, 'friend' be willing to help? I believe Iron Fist mentioned to us when he lent us aid recently that he has a healing ability. He claims he saw it used on Black Knight."

From the partially shadowed corner, the black winged figure came. June could now appreciate just how tall he really was – well over six feet – and how large and powerful in appearance his wings were. They were large enough that their tips brushed the floor. But she noticed that despite the fiery anger in his red eyes, the wings were held limply, which explained why they were touching the floor in the first place. He was an odd amalgam of fury and grief. She understood he was upset about the children being attacked, but why...?

She looked around again.

Oh.

"You didn't find Adaryn, did you?" she guessed.

The holo-form refused to meet her eyes as he paused mid-step before continuing, stopping at Rahne's side. To not hear a single word from him was bizarre in the extreme. Whenever he was at the hangar, Jack said he was quite vocal and even a little snide and teasing, not to mention he had a taste for sarcasm to rival Hawkeye. She'd seen that herself with his attitude after MECH's abduction of him. He'd been almost petulant about Ratchet putting him in power down so he could heal.

Not being able to safely retrieve all the mutants, to know that he hadn't been there to protect the others from the initial Predator X attack...it had crushed something inside him. What precisely she didn't claim to know, but something had indeed been crushed.

'_You poor mech..._' she thought.

* * *

Rahne shied away instinctively from the gloved hand that reached out for her. The last time a gloved hand had come after her, needles had been put into her skin. She just hurt so much; she didn't want any more touching around the injuries.

For a brief moment the anger in Galvatron's red eyes subsided to be replaced with reassurance. And so she let the energy form of their alien protector reach out and hold her paw while the medically-trained Kitty re-applied more bandages on her legs. She felt something, a tiny sliver of something, an energy, transfer from him to her – something warm, relaxing and reminiscent of a warm fire on a cold winter's evening. Some of the smaller stings and aches simply melted away.

'_I am sorry for what was done to you, Rahne. While I cannot heal such deep wounds as these lest my brother know fully of my presence here, I can at least dull the pain you are suffering. It is all I can offer, but it should allay the pain to such an extent that the dressings should not hurt as much._'

She nearly jolted at the middle-aged voice in her head all of a sudden. It didn't sound like Professor X's voice, and it wasn't Galv 'cause he wasn't a telepath. It sounded...older. Wiser. There was power in it, but at the same time it was the most gentle voice she'd ever heard, and the sheer emotional anguish in it nearly made her heart snap. Whoever this was, they were in agony that she and the others had been hurt, and in even greater agony that they couldn't do much more than dim the pain.

'_Um...thanks. That-that helped. Can you...can you do that for the others?_' she asked.

The warmth increased. '_Yes._'

Galvatron released her paw. She watched as he went around to the others. Like her, the glitter of pain in their eyes faded and they stopped struggling as much. She saw Jane and June look at him in undisguised wonder. He caught their looks towards the end, met their eyes for a brief second...and then dropped his gaze.

Shoving his hands in his deep trench coat pockets, wings still dragging, he left the infirmary. As he exited into the corridor, his form flickered, shimmered, and vanished.

* * *

Wonder Man, after a moment's hesitation, excused himself and flew after him. He was a techie, not a medic. He wasn't really much use in the infirmary. Vision would probably be of more help in there than he was. He was on solid ground acting as Tony's eyes and ears alongside Jarvis while the billionaire inventor and a few of the other techies were up in space finishing up their updates on the last dozen or so satellites.

Tony, Reed, Beast, and Ant-Man had wanted to come back down and help the instant Jarvis had updated them to the situation but Cap had convinced them that the best hope for finding the last missing mutant, Adaryn, would be to finish those upgrades. They'd be able to find her then with help from Xavier, Jean, and Emma. But Galvatron seemed to be have forgotten that. Simon intended to remind him.

He flew into the sub-level hangar to find...no one. Galvatron was not in the sub-levels from what his eyes alone were telling. He didn't know the alien well enough to guess where he was. But that was what the biometrics feed on the ID card was for. Tony had had Ratchet put that there to start with so his team and the medic could keep tabs on him. At least, that was what Vision had told him. He had never actually tested it out himself since he gathered Galvatron enjoyed being somewhat of a loner in the group – didn't like people breathing down his neck or hovering.

"Galv? You down here? Hello?" called Simon.

Wonder Man flew around the various areas of the sub-levels. He checked Tony's armory – nothing. He checked the training rooms – nothing. He checked the Assembly Hall – nothing. He even checked in the rushing waters that ran through the sub-level's main area.

Nothing. There was no sign of the their alien friend.

His hand forced, Wonder Man pulled out his ID card from a storage slot Tony had added to his stability gauntlet. He was a little surprised to note two distinct signals of the same frequency, amplitude, and wavelength: one was coming from the roof of a nearby building, while the other was coming from a place he hadn't even considered: Dr. Pym's lab. He hadn't thought to look there because mainly Tony and Wasp were the ones permitted inside. It was Pym's little getaway from the world of superheroes and supervillains, a place he could just be a scientist.

He flew for the lab quickly. He found Galvatron's holo-form staring intently at a wall-spanning board adorned with pictures of Hydra, Maggia, A.I.M., and Hand villains. Simon recognized the familiar masked visage of Baron Zemo right away, along with the other remaining Masters who were all crossed out with red ink, but there were other faces that did not so readily click. Only designations below them gave any solid identity: Mandarin, Red Skull, Justin Hammer, MODOK, the Controller, Kirigi the Undying, Gorgon, Madame Viper, and many others. Some were labeled as "BOV" which he assumed meant "Break Out Villain" but a good number of them lacked that label. One of them in particular stood out: a strange, angular humanoid made of metal with burning red eyes. Beneath it was the label "Ultron."

It was...bewildering wasn't even coming close. What was Pym doing in here? What was with all the pictures? And more importantly, what was Galvatron doing in here?

The holo-form turned to look at him. "Did you know about this pet project of his?"

Wonder Man shook his head. "I-I had no idea. I've never been in here. You're the war strategist, not me. What does it say to you?"

"It looks like he is narrowing down where they are thanks to reports from civilian and hero eyewitnesses and reports from S.H.I.E.L.D officers." He pointed to the photos as he spoke. "Obviously Dr. Pym wants these people recaptured but he's too much of a pacifist to go after them himself. This data might be for someone else. Who I don't know. Ant-Man isn't exactly the social butterfly that Wasp is. There is, of course, the far-fetched theory he's doing this for himself and does in fact mean to capture them on his own for one reason or another. Perhaps a way of proving himself? Personally I think the doing-this-for-someone-else theory is the more viable one."

Both heroes examined the lab more closely. On a desk near the wall was a large assemblage of mechanical components and some strange devices seemingly tossed around as if in frustration or exhaustion. Wonder Man picked one of them up to get a closer look but could make neither head nor tails of what it was he was holding. It was a tiny little disk-like object colored yellow and black. There was a strange little logo in the center that looked like a hornet. Another object lay on the table that was colored similarly but that had the eerie resemblance to a pistol.

Lastly, Ant-Man's helmet lay to one side – peculiar in it of itself, since he took it everywhere with him. Did he not need it up in space? Or had he left it here for another purpose? The fine-tipped tools laying around it and the exposed circuitry hinted he might either be doing maintenance on it – or else upgrading it.

"...Come to think of it, Pym's been acting a little weird lately. Scatter-brained so Wasp says. She says he's also not sleeping well, being immersed in work down here. And whenever he goes out late at night, he shuts his ID card down." Wonder Man admitted hesitantly. "I don't want to say he's slowly losing it...but everyone else has noticed it, too. Been going on for a while now. We just haven't brought it up. Tony thought he'd come to us, but it looks like we may have to go to him. Stress gets to the best of us after a while."

"Hm." was all Galvatron said in reply.

Then, taking the photo labeled as Gorgon, scanning the information and putting it back, the holo-form disappeared. Simon watched his bio-metric readings recede from the nearby building. He was headed towards Hell's Kitchen, following the information on the photo where Gorgon was last seen. Coming to a decision, he flew out of the hangar bay after him.

If the alien wanted to do something stupid – like go after the Hand's mutant, Hydra-associating leader for example – he was going to need some back up. Hopefully something or someone would meet him halfway and distract him enough for him to forget this lunacy, because there was a reason Gorgon had earned his name: cross his path, and, like his namesake, you would die after being painfully turned to stone, shattered to pieces afterwards by a swing from the Godkiller sword he used. Very few people could boast surviving against him, which was _precisely why_ he was the Hand's leader.

That Ant-Man of all people had him as a target for some reason was disturbing enough on its own, but Galvatron going after him with only a single Avengers as support? This was a disaster waiting to happen. He wasn't thinking straight. He was frustrated; angry at his own perceived failure, and so he wanted a way to make up for.

Admirable in a weird, possibly suicidal way. Still stupid to the nth degree though.

* * *

Quake was actually enjoying herself.

Miko had made her uneasy to start with, but now that she had demonstrated her powers to her (safely) and was now regaling a few tales from the Skrull invasion and from her general work that Fury had declassified the girl was much more manageable. Jack's presence had helped greatly with that. The kid had a certain aura of authority, and Miko seemed to be a little less rambunctious when he was around – emphasis on "a little." The girl seemed to idolize superheroes to an almost adorable extent, that was all. Wanted to befriend as many as she could. Who could blame her?

She was just beginning to let herself relax when someone knocked on the door. Were Miko's folks back already? Had June returned from her excursion? She opened the door in all innocence...

And came face to face with a tall, purple masked, crowned man with a sword sheathed at his side. His right hand held a vicious looking energy pistol, its glowing barrel pointed at her upper chest.

"_Servus_, Ms. Johnson..." he purred suavely in broken German.

Daisy barely had time to shout out "Kids! Get down!" or fling him back with her powers before he fired. She was cast back a good foot and a half, crumpling to the floor. The blast tore through her lightly armored suit, exposing the burned skin beneath it. Only her training kept her from screaming her pain. Doggedly, she tried to get up, tried to lift a hand to send out a wave of vibrations powerful enough to make Zemo's ears bleed. Another shot to the upper chest sent her spiraling into unconsciousness.

Miko snapped angrily: "Hey! Leave her alone, creep! She's not an Avenger!"

The girl leapt over the back of the sofa and charged at Zemo, arm raised to swing a mean punch at him. Jack cried out at her to stop even as she swung. Zemo effortlessly caught her rounded fist in one hand, squeezing it and twisting the arm into a painful backwards position. Miko stifled a pained noise. Then he simply kicked her aside. But he didn't harm her further or render her unconscious or even kill her, Jack noted. Obviously she wasn't the target. But then who was? Maybe he could find out.

Jack backed away, hands up. "I'm not going to fight you. I know I'd lose."

He could almost see the Baron smirk behind his skin-fused mask. "Ah, at last. Someone sensible. Then perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me: where is your alien friend, hm? I haven't seen him for quite some time."

'_He doesn't know where he is?_' Jack wondered. '_But...why? It's pretty well known he's with the X-Men. Then again, Tony and Wasp both mentioned he was sticking real close to them lately 'cause he's scared the MRD will kidnap more kids, and the Institute's out in Westchester county, and the Masters don't bother with mutants..._'

"Well?" Zemo pressed.

Jack debated. Did he tell the truth, or lie? He couldn't make up a lie on short notice. If he was going to lie, he needed time to fabricate one.

"What do you want him for?" the teen demanded. "Last time you and your pals squared off with him you had Dynamo hit him with a nano-virus. Iron Man said you almost killed him."

"Bah!" Zemo snorted. "Yes, I 'almost' managed to. The nano-virus was incomplete then. But thanks to that encounter, Doctor Zola and some associates of his have had more than enough time to perfect it. For getting my Masters locked away _and _being stupid enough to turn his back on what I had to offer him at the start, I intend to repay him in full. No one turns their back on me. Betray me...and you face a traitor's death."

Jack eyed him. "Associates? Who, A.I.M. beekeepers? Heard they worked for you a lot. Also heard their stuff tends to backfire. Like, a lot."

"Oh, no. Not A.I.M alone. Have you not heard? A.I.M is now allied with the organization MECH. They have quite the database over your titanic protectors. Vision destroyed most of the previous Cylas's hard files...but she did manage to upload much of it to external drives before the purge. Lacking the necessary resources to craft such a complicated virus, the new Cylas turned to A.I.M. and thus to Hydra and myself. When I devise a plan to kill someone, I intend for that plan to succeed, even if I must wait months for it to come to fruition."

"Oh, yeah? Did you forget the other 'traitor' in the ranks, purple puss?" Miko laughed dryly.

Both teens were surprised to see Zemo's skin-fused mask morph into a puzzled expression. He laughed after a moment – a dry, dead, sneering laugh.

"Wonder Man is dead. I saw him perish in Avengers Mansion when he destroyed the Muspelheim Norn Stone. Are you so out of touch with them that they did not inform you?"

They were wise enough not to let their expressions change. The attacks on Avengers Mansion – they had either been remote due to low numbers on the part of the Masters (such as the recent biological attack) or coincidental (the one that had occurred after Wonder Man had appeared at the Mansion). It seemed sheer dumb luck had kept Wonder Man under the radar for this long. Miko could've laughed. Zemo _literally didn't realize_ that Simon Williams was alive and well, nor did he realize he had found shelter with the Avengers themselves. Simon had also been busy helping Tony with the satellites in an on-and-off, kinda random way, so there was also that. Good enough reason to think the guy was dead.

'_Or maybe he's just playing with us_?' Jack thought. You never could tell with Zemo. Was he saying that the Wonder Man who had worked for him was dead? Or did he really believe the man himself was dead? He was being pretty oddly specific concerning his death though...

On the floor, Miko tried to sneakily contact Galvatron behind her back, to warn him that Zemo was looking for him and wanted to kill him. With his attention on Jack for the time being, she thought she might just get away with it. Zemo caught the movement with another smirk. But he didn't try to remove the phone from her possession or break it.

"Ah! Now that is an idea, isn't it? Why don't we give him a call?"

Realizing her mistake, Miko tried to rise and run for the door. The Baron fired a shot that barely missed her head, the girl yelping in response. It was only her vice grip on her phone that kept it from being flung from her hands when she whipped both up to shelter herself.

"I would advise against that, young lady. I am not one to throw away bargaining chips...but I might do so if I begin to see you as a nuisance rather than an advantage. So." He pointed the pistol at her. "Contact him."

Miko did as told.

* * *

"Hey! Galvatron! Wait up!"

The grey aircraft slowed on hearing the voice shout at him from behind. He had seen someone following him some ways behind on his scanners for the last ten minutes. He had thought perhaps it was Hawkeye, Ms, Marvel, Wasp, or even one of the X-Men. So he was rather surprised to see the glowing purple energy form of Wonder Man speeding towards him.

"What do you want? I'm busy."

"Busy flying headlong into your grave?" retorted Simon. "There is no way in hell I'm letting you face down the Gorgon on your own. The guy's on S.H.I.E.L.D's Most Wanted List. You need to be a top-level bad guy to be put on that list. Allow me to put this into perspective for you: _Doctor Doom _is on that list. You really want to go after a man on the same list as Doctor Doom?"

"If it means lessening the danger Dr. Pym is putting himself in? Yes."

Simon blinked. He hadn't expected that response, nor had he expected the dangerously calm, matter-of-fact tone of voice in which those words had been uttered. He really wasn't the aggressive, screw-the-consequences personality Zemo had allied with in the past. He had a heart. He cared about his friends, didn't like them being put in danger, and he'd do whatever was needed to lessen the risk.

"Then if you're dead set on this, you could use some back up." he said at last.

"...Thank you."

Together they began flying in the direction of Hell's Kitchen once more. They had barely gone a mile when the aircraft's comm. link pinged. He slowed to a hover. It was Miko going by the number. Had Jazz gone and slipped her the ever-altering Avengers frequency again? He'd have a word with him if so. Her cell phone was much more easily hacked than an ID card or Cybertronian comm. link.

"Miko? What is it?" Galvatron sighed.

[_Hello, Megatron._]

He felt the Energon in his lines freeze at that suave, purring German voice. Simon saw him freeze, heard his engine sputter and seem to go out.

"Zemo." he growled. "How did you get Miko's cell phone? Where are you? Where is she? If you've hurt her in any way I _swear_ I will forgo the rule of not killing a villain _gladly_. Damn the consequences. You deserve nothing less."

[_Oh, there's no need for threats. She and the other boy are unharmed. I am not after them. But through them...I can get to you._]

"What do you want?" the grey aircraft snapped.

[_It is nothing so very complicated, Megatron. You betrayed me by helping the heroes during and after Asgard, and you continue to help them now. What I want is your dead body. And I intend to collect it this day. Come. I have the girl's phone, so you know where I am. Face your death with some dignity. A warrior of your caliber should do no less._]

The line went dead. Galvatron remained silent. He felt his counselor stir anxiously within him, heard him ask what he intended to do; he would not let him forfeit his life when he wasn't healed yet. He would lose him to Unicron then. He found himself unable to answer him. Did he die and surrender himself to Unicron? Or did he skirt around death once more – and thus condemn two teens to death and two families and many friends to endless grief? Neither option was distinctly likable, and "No" was the honest answer to both.

"What? What happened? What's he want?" Simon demanded.

"Forget Gorgon. We can handle him later. We need to go pay Baron Zemo a visit at Wasp's penthouse. He's got Jack and Miko at his mercy."

Wonder Man's red eyes widened. Then they were set in determination.

"Then what are we doing hovering around here? Let's go! Hurry! Go, go!"

They shot off.

* * *

Almost politely, Zemo handed Miko her pink flip phone back. Fire burned in Miko's eyes. On the sofa, Jack glowered at him. Quake had yet to rise, but she was stirring weakly now.

"Ironic how I never thought to harm an Avenger through civilian means. My thanks to you for the suggestion, Ms. Nakadai. You have assured the downfall of a traitor and a generally dangerous mechanism."

Miko snarled, vainly throwing a shoe at him in her anger. Zemo shot the thrown object nonchalantly, watching in sadistic glee as it was reduced to ash. Quake's eyes fluttered open and she pushed herself to her knees, unsteadily balanced her weight on one hand as the other covered the burning rip in her suit. She'd heard enough to know what Zemo was up to. There was a major flaw in the Baron's scheme that might just let the mech pull through when he came to answer the challenge; she knew he would.

"He'll beat you. I've read his file. He's not so easy to kill."

"Oh? I came very near succeeding the last time. What pray tell has changed since then, Ms. Johnson? Something I could be aware of?"

She growled at him: "I'd die before telling you a damn thing about him. He's under Fury's protection, so he's under mine, too."

The super-powered agent spat in his direction, challenging him. After getting up to her knees, she sent out a shock wave of vibrations at his head. The Baron cried out in pain, his hands held to the sides of his head as he felt his eardrums come near to breaking open. Sensing she'd made her point, and in too much pain to use her powers for extended time periods, she stopped her assault. When the man removed his hands from his still-ringing ears, he found that a small amount of blood had soaked through his mask.

Zemo's composure cracked a little, satisfaction swiftly replaced by irritation. The woman had spirit but she was becoming annoying now. He went over to her, drawing his blade. He held it to her neck, preparing to slice open the jugular vein and watch her choke on her own blood until death...

Then, through his still-ringing ears, he picked up the distinct scream of an advanced engine. He withdrew the blade. The windows darkened when a familiar dark grey and black aircraft lowered down in front of it, purple lateral lines glowing strongly in what might be interpreted as a threat.

"Ah. It would seem our guest has arrived."

* * *

_Note to Guest: I might just try that idea, but I may tweak it a little bit. :) I'm also not getting a lot done because of finals/crunch week at school. I got so much going on that I have very little time to write it. I may not make it a one-shot but a miniseries, kinda like First Star I See Tonight or Tcsovan Niv A'anoth. Might flow a little better that way._

_Sound good? :) I'll get around to it, I promise, but I may need to wait for the general school-related chaos to die down. _


	37. Chapter 37: A Trick of Flame and Death

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 37**

* * *

The aircraft outside the window seemed to stare down the Baron inside. Even without true eyes in this shape, Simon Williams knew it was a little bit more than just staring. He knew Galvatron was analyzing, trying to puzzle out the best way to extract the other adult and the three teens without any of them coming to harm. Going by the purple lateral lines, he had a feeling a touch of intimidation might be coming into play as well. He certainly looked more threatening with them glaring harshly than without them.

Zemo continued to look back out at him, not intimidated in the least from the looks of it. Then again, it was unfortunately difficult to startle or frighten the man. It was also harder to read his expressions or see emotions in his eyes due to his skin-fused mask. For all Simon knew, he might actually be a little bit scared. In his place he admitted he sure as hell would be. There was no way the guy was intending to fight a Cybertronian off with just a sword and a blaster, was he? That was insane even for him.

[Stay out of sight, Williams. This is my fight to deal with. He asked for me specifically. I need you as a wild card. He thinks I came alone. We can take advantage of that.]

"You're not really going to give yourself up to him, are you?" he asked as quietly as he could from further above.

[...If all other avenues of choice are empty...I may have to.] The weight, the sheer severity in Galvatron's voice was not encouraging to him. [I am done with letting innocent children be harmed because I wasn't there to defend them. I can't have any more child's blood on my hands. I have too much already. Here at least I have a chance to make up for previous shortcomings. If the only way to protect them is to forfeit my life, then fine.]

"But we both know Zemo'll back-stab you. He rarely keeps his word. The Avengers could tell you. Hell, _I'll_ tell you that right now. You make any sort of deal with him and he'll come around from behind and knife you – a lot of times literally."

[And that's precisely what I'm counting on. He's no different than Starscream was. If a deal is not distinctly beneficial to him he'll go back on it if the opportunity presents itself. If it is, there's a chance we all walk away from this unscathed, and Zemo might end up in chains. Or he might simply get away again. But better those outcomes than the one where I, the woman, and the teens end up dead.]

Much as he disliked his tone, Simon found it difficult to argue his line of thinking. He despised himself for not coming up with a retort. Rogers probably could have – out of anyone he had the most experience with Zemo – and Tony; Dr. Pym and Wasp for sure would argue this as foolhardy and incredibly risky. T'Challa...he wasn't so sure about. He was one to take risks every now and again if the payoff was good enough; same with Hawkeye. Thor and Hulk? Hell, they'd probably barge right in and start pounding. They weren't the best strategists in the world.

He flew lower.

[Williams. Please. Just do what I say. And right now I say you need to stay out of sight and watch my back. Alright? I'll tell you when I need you. But if you would, please contact the nurse and tell her not to return home just yet.]

Simon relented, shying away further in the air to await developments. And, as told, he set about sending a message to Ms. Darby. For a fraction of a second he debated sending a distress signal to rally the Avengers...but Galvatron hadn't told him to do that. Like he'd just said, this was his problem to deal with and his alone. Calling in for support would force Zemo's hand. This had to be solved by only the two of them.

'_Galvatron, please. Do not do anything_ _brash_.' pleaded Primus. '_You are not healed yet. I am not about to lose you to him, not now._'

He wouldn't. He swore that. He had a plan.

* * *

"_Alright, Zemo. I'm here. Do your worst. You'd better have a plan to kill me other than that little needle of yours, because that won't do much to me._"

Zemo have a twisted smirk beneath his mask as the girl's phone transmitted the voice to him. Megatron was quite different from how he remembered him, and he was different from their last encounter. Dauntless. No doubt something he'd picked up from that blasted archer, Barton. Or perhaps he'd gotten it from that annoying little menace friend of the Avengers, Spider-Man. Still, he had to admire the alien's courage in a way. Here he was, playing on his terms, and he had the daring nerve to challenge him, taunt him. Zemo had to hand it to him. Just like Rogers, this idiot never gave in without a fight. A warrior to the bitter, painful end.

"Galv! Get out of here! It's a trap!" Jack shouted, hoping his voice could be heard over Miko's phone.

"_I am well aware of that, Jackson. And please try to keep Miko from provoking him. Unless she already has, in which case I'm going to have a talk with her after this._"

The teen blinked. Beside him, Miko cracked a grin, snickering. Quake smirked. The dossier that Fury had had Barton and the other Avengers compile during his stay with them was right. This guy really was no monster. He was brave and honestly a tad reckless – in a good way though. He kind of reminded her of Barnes. You mess with anybody under his protection and you were basically messing with a dragon. Rule one with dragons? _Don't tick them off. _And Zemo was doing just that by holding the three of them as bargaining chips.

"Good luck killing this guy Zemo. He's cheated death – what, four times already? Five? Six?" Miko taunted. "I think that cosmic Death lady might be getting bored with him by now. She can't seem to kill him. Unicron can't seem to kill him. MECH couldn't kill him. Starscream couldn't kill him and he tried a _ton _of times. So what makes you think you can, purple puss?"

Zemo gave a low, menacing growl and brandished his blade at her. Quake tensed, ready to react should he try to attack her. But in the end Zemo gave a dark chuckle, drawing his weapon back and almost gently caressing its fuller. He spoke then.

"Because unlike them I bother to study my enemies thoroughly before dispatching them. Three of those four react on whims. I know through Cylas's research of him that his immune system is weak and so is his power core – 'spark' they call it? That is why the incomplete virus had such a devastating effect on him when used. I thought it was weak enough that it would merely provide the necessary distraction for me to escape, so I was pleasantly surprised to see him react to it the way it did. And it permitted me to escape in the bargain. That convinced me to have Dr. Zola, A.I.M. and Cylas to complete it – and make it far more powerful. You might say that excessive...but I simply want to see the job done."

"You've studied Cap for a while now. You still haven't managed to beat him." Jack pointed out, careful to keep his voice even. He didn't want to bait the man.

The white eyes of Zemo's mask narrowed dangerously to mere slits. A short snarl escaped his throat. Jack backed away, afraid he'd baited him. But once more the Baron reigned in his impulse to kill and instead spoke more evenly. His words did not seem directed at him but at the phone in Miko's hands:

"Perhaps we should take this to the roof? I would not want to incommode a warrior of your caliber before your demise, Megatron."

"_You're incommoding me right now by insisting on using my old_ _name._" Galvatron hissed. "_I'm no longer Megatron. Megatron of Kaon is dead. He died the moment he understood the weight of everything he'd done. That name may as well be cursed. I am Galvatron now. If you intend to be polite about this then the least you could do is use my new name, Zemo._"

"Very well then, Galvatron. Roof. Now."

Zemo hefted his sword and pointed it at Jack, Miko, and Quake, then flicked it in the direction of the door. Jack and Miko did their best to support to the taller wounded woman as they went. Behind them, the Baron followed with his sword encouraging them onwards.

* * *

It took the great grey mech moments to reach the roof of the building and transform. Simon hovered by his shoulder, awaiting instructions as to what to do only to be met with silence.

A flash of harsh, painful reminiscence came upon him as he stood there waiting, planning. The last time he had been on this rooftop it had been bittersweet. He'd been up here, angry at himself and hating what he had become over the centuries, wondering whether or not those acts were his to make. Consciously he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, but his subconscious had craved for company. Primus had provided, as had Jack. He remembered the teen standing there, staring up at him in confusion but no fear despite his past with him. He remembered his words, those simple but meaningful words:

"_Couldn't. Not wouldn't._"

[Williams, find some place out of sight. When Zemo approaches, strike at him the moment it is safe to. I doubt he will be expecting you.]

Wonder Man said he understood and flew down to shelter behind the doorway that led to the roof. If Zemo tried any funny business, he'd be ready. He was more than ready to pay Zemo back for forcing him to work for him. He'd just wanted to get back at Tony for taking his company from him, only to find out that hadn't been Tony's intent at all – he'd been trying to save the company, not absorb it. He'd never intended for his revenge to go so far. That Zemo thought him dead would make this payback all the sweeter to him.

They waited only a minute and a half before Zemo showed at last, ushering his three hostages in front of him with his blade. Galvatron was interested to note the sides of the Baron's skin-fused mask were stained with blood. From the way his sole adult hostage was glaring at him with a smug gleam in her eyes he had a feeling she was the culprit. But how? She was not armed. Her black and orange bodysuit, perhaps, provided a hint, as on one shoulder was the eagle insignia of S.H.I.E.L.D. The armor and the insignia hinted she was a special operative and they usually had powers.

"Again, you'd better have a better plan to kill me other than that little needle a sword you have. Because if you intend to use it on me, poisoned or not –"

He called on the Falchion, brandishing it for the man to see. He was pleased to see the white eyes of his mask widen in disbelief.

"You're going to have a _very_ hard time of it." he finished. "Or I could just step on you. I'm sure Fury would be willing to look the other way in this instance. Exceptions can always be made."

Zemo remained silent for a moment. Then came another one of his smooth, dark chuckles and said:

"_Sie sind mutig, Galvatron. __Sie sind mutig...aber töricht."_ He knew the alien's translation programs would enable him to interpret his words. The returning frown proved it.

"_Und nur ein Verrückter droht mich_." the alien shot back with cold fire.

"Uh, what the heck is going on with all the German here, guys?" Miko demanded.

"Quiet, Miko." said the other woman quickly.

"Pity I'll have to silence you. You learn quickly. But I suppose I could get the Skull or Strucker to revive you as a servant to Hydra. They've become quite skilled in manipulating the substance you call Dark Energon. Interesting how it can revive your kind from death, then turn you into mindless lackeys."

Zemo saw the mech visibly recoil, saw a twinge of fear in his red optics. Ah. Interesting. Indicated a history with the substance. That he was scared of it would make re-animating him all the more meaningful. Hydra would benefit having him as a servant to their cause. The Avengers would be reluctant to hurt him even then, as would the other heroes who all saw him as an ally and friend.

"You do like hearing yourself talk, don't you? Are going to try to kill me or not?" Galvatron snapped. "I don't have all day. I have other places to be."

Beneath his mask, Zemo's lips curled into a smirk too small the skin-fused cloth to indicate. He struck out and grabbed Miko, holding her close to him in a vice grip. He dragged her over to the opposite end of the roof, forcing into a precarious balancing act, his arm the only thing keeping her from falling. His blade hovered just above her throat. The girl, brave and brash though she was, let out a small keen or perhaps a whimper when she felt the sharp edge cut into her skin and make a thin opening in her skin. It was small but it stung like the world's worst paper-cut. She didn't dare to look down to see if she was actually bleeding. She just felt she was.

"Miko!" Jack made to rush forward but Quake grabbed his arm, silently shaking her head "No." Zemo was just waiting for an excuse to hurt Galvatron further by injuring his civilian charges. He might even kill her. No one would put it past him.

"Now, now. Hold still, Ms. Nakadai." he purred. "I simply need to make sure your guardian doesn't attempt anything. I'm sure Nurse Darby or Ms. Foster would be willing to tend to that insignificant little wound after this is done. It's hardly more than a paper cut. No need to squirm. You try anything, she falls to her doom."

Zemo grabbed his pistol from his side holster and drew it. He took aim, pointing it at the alien's chest where the starburst symbol was. He knew through MECH and A.I.M. that a Cybertronian spark, unlike a human heart, was always located directly in the center of their chests, held in a special chamber to keep it from moving too much. A shot to there would let the nano-virus run rampant through his systems in mere moments.

Galvatron had to do his best not to laugh. Unwittingly, Zemo was playing right into his hands.

"Fine. Drop her. What do I care?" he said dismissively. "She's very annoying."

Miko looked at him, shocked and hurt. Zemo flung his head back and laughed, his grip slackening. In that brief second the great grey mech flashed her a wink and showed her two crossed fingers carefully concealed behind his back. Miko did not grin back, knowing better for once, but her eyes were glittering now. She knew what he was really doing now. The guy was toying with Zemo. Galv was _actually toying_ with Baron. Freaking. Zemo. He wouldn't let her fall or come to harm. Guy already had something planned out. Probably someone below to catch her.

This. This was why the guy was the best superhero ever. Didn't even matter what team he was with. He had the most courage and wiles out of any hero she'd ever met – yes, even more than Hawkeye and Tony. He was using Zemo's own dark ego against him in a way that would've made Cap and Winter Soldier doubly proud.

"Very well. Your wish is granted."

He dropped her. He did not bother to look down, thus he did not see a glowing purple form snap out from under cover, grab the girl, place her on a balcony, unlock the door by melting the lock, and sneak further up the building with a conspiratorial wink at her, all within the span of a few seconds. It wasn't Wasp's apartment so he just had to hope the owner wouldn't mind too much. He'd pay for the lock. Least he could do in return. Carefully he kept sneaking closer to the roof, skirting around to another wall to catch the Baron from the side.

Zemo aimed the pistol, pressed down on the trigger...

And he howled in dismay when a blast of purple energy knocked the gun clean from his hand. The weapon spiraled down to the street below. Only the alien's sharp ears let him hear the clatter of the metal against cement. He looked down at the Baron, not even trying to hide smirk and the triumphant gleam in his red optics.

"_What?!_" he shrieked. Angrily he drew his blade and stalked forward, body tense with rage.

"Punking I believe is the human phrase you're looking for, Zemo." Galvatron retorted smugly. "Is that right, Williams?"

"Sounds about right, yeah." chimed in another voice – a voice Zemo was sure he'd never hear again. "You're getting the hang of our slang language pretty well."

The owner of the impossible voice flew up from behind the cover of the rooftop access door. It was distinctly humanoid and made of writing, glowing violet energy speckled with paler lavender and had distinctive glowing red eyes. For a time Zemo simply stood there, aghast and agape at the sight. Simon Williams, known more colloquially as Wonder Man, was alive and well. He also had a device on one arm very much resembling a gauntlet. The style alone screamed of Stark. It was streamlined, functional, and flashy.

"But...I saw you meet your end!" protested Zemo. "I saw the Norn Stone's magic destroy you – rip you apart!"

"Appearances can be deceiving. And what do you care? You tried to have me killed. You thought the magic would just finish the job for you, huh? News flash: It didn't."

To drive his point home he blasted Zemo mercilessly. The Baron blocked them well enough to start with but soon the barrage was coming too swiftly for him to effectually block it. Quake soon joined him, attacking his ears with a relentless stream of sonic waves. Soon enough the Baron was on his knees, blood trickling from the sides of his head. He refused to give in though. Defeat by a traitor – two traitors – was something his intense pride would not allow. He had to flee once more.

He had a plan set up already. It would allow him a chance to escape. He cared little about the civilian casualties his act would cause.

Snarling, he forced himself to his feet, using his blade as a wobbling crutch. Out of one pocket he pulled what looked like a walkie talkie with a single red button on it.

Grinning to himself behind the mask, he pressed it.

Nearby came the sound of detonations and shattering glass. The three heroes and Jack whirled in time to see a good-sized skyscraper (Galvatron's map of the city had it labeled as 432 Park Avenue, a condominium high rise) erupt in fiery explosions. They weren't large but the fires would spread and kill whoever hadn't been closest the detonation sites. Fires didn't pose a danger to his kind but a human's sensitive lungs would soon drown in the smoke, and their skin would burn in the heat. Their eyes widened. Quake's mouth dropped open, hands flying to cover it as horror marred her expression.

"Oh my God..." Jack managed. This...Zemo had just...Oh man.

Snarling like a beast, Galvatron rounded on Zemo. The Baron remained largely impassive but chuckled darkly.

"What will it be, heroes: My capture? Or will you save the civilians? No one has died – yet. The explosions are immolation charges, an invention of A.I.M's. Small explosions, not normally lethal unless you're quite near it...but the ensuing super-heated fires would be."

Wonder Man, infuriated, blasted the Baron with a shot strong enough to down him, even scorch his suit, revealing a hint of the chemically burned skin beneath. His sword clattered to the ground.

"How 'bout we do both?" he snapped. "Quake, take him and the kids. Miko's a few floors down. Get them to the Helicarrier. Galv and I'll round up the other Avengers. Think you could call in some X-Men too, big guy? Ice-Man and Storm preferably to douse the fires. Hopefully the fire department will be there to help us out."

The great grey mech nodded once sharply and took the skies, opening up a channel to the X-Men. He did not speak what was going on, as that would take too long. He merely sent a burst of data he knew Forge could interpret quickly. An answering ping came back a mere ten seconds later, telling that Ororo and Bobbie were on their way to the building right now via one of Tony's groundbridges.

'_I should've anticipated this. Zemo always pulls this kind of trick, plays off our ethics...I-I just never thought he'd pull something this large scale..._'

If anyone had died...there would be hell to pay. Not even a maximum security prison would protect Zemo from the wrath of Galvatron. No amount of soothing or reassurance from the entity inside him would stop him either.

* * *

The scene on their arrival was one no hero ever wanted to see. But...there was some hope.

The whole building was sprouting tendrils of fire out of the shattered windows and terrified shouts and screams were heard through the roaring blaze. Fire engines and firemen and women were desperately trying to get the fires doused to little avail. Four ambulances were on site tending to burns, smoke inhalation, or wounds caused by shattering glass. Already two black body bags were visible. His processor told him it was simply bad luck, that they'd been too close to the detonation site. His spark screamed in outrage.

'_You're dead to me, Zemo. Dead!_'

Horrific as the sight was, Storm and Bobbie were already on site and lending their own unique means of firing suppression. Phoenix and Magneto were there as well, telekinetically moving away debris and lifting civilians down to safety. Thor and the Avengers darted in and out of the building's levels with civilians. A more unusual site was that of a team of four heroes all wearing the same blue uniform with a "4" on their chests. One of them, a young man whose body seemed composed of pure flame, was absorbing some of the fire, drawing it out. Another, a woman with blonde hair, was hovering mid-air on a barely visible disk, hands out. The flames were acting funny where her hands were pointed. Some even snuffed out entirely. A third individual, a big bulky creature of a man whose body looked as if made of stones, was delving into the burning lobby alongside the Hulk to bring out civilians. Lastly, a third male, lanky and scholarly in appearance with a few wisps of grey in his dark brown hair was coordinating rescue efforts from the ground alongside Wasp and Ant-Man.

'_The Fantastic Four. Reed Richards, siblings Susan and Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm. The Baxter Building, their headquarters, is not far from here. They probably arrived hot on the tails of the others._'

He remembered the last from Cybertron. Very distinctive coloration and strength.

"Hey! Flyboy! Don't just hover there! Lend a hand, would you? We gotta get these folks outta here!" shouted the stone-skinned man before he ran once more into the inferno.

Shaking himself out of his daze he drew in closer to the building to let Phoenix and Magneto set a family of three of Hispanic descent on his canopy. The child, a girl of about eight, seemed distraught as she was brought to ground and was frantically motioning upwards and repeating the word "_Gato__! Mi gato!_" He had Spanish in his databases thankfully. "Gato" meant cat. Ah. The girl had a pet feline.

"Jean! There's a cat up there somewhere! Belongs to the group you just gave me! Find it!"

"On it! Eric, keep up with extraction!"

Magneto merely nodded. He wrenched some more metal free.

The telepath reached out with her mind and soon found what she was looking for. Carefully she brought it, a dark grey tabby kitten of about six or eight months, out of the fires and lowered it down into the arms of the young girl with a "Here you go, sweetheart," who then shrieked in delighted relief and hugged in close to her. The tag on it said the kitten's name was Cloud. It was shaking, scared, coughing faintly, and had some of its fur singed off, but otherwise it looked okay. Given some proper care and time to recover, Jean suspected it would be back to its playful self in no time.

An explosion racked the twentieth floor where Hawkeye and Cap were busy, strong enough to almost knock Susan Storm and Thor out of the air. The burlier Asgardian caught and steadied her before she could plummet to the cement below. Another, lesser strength explosion followed. Shouts of alarm came from there and below in the streets.

"Gas main! Clint, Steve, get out of there now!" he heard the scholar man on the floor cry. "That just added more fuel to the fire! Your suits won't protect you!"

Iron Man flew into the floor. His infrared scanners were having a hard time finding the two men in the heat and smoke, and removing the faceplate would expose him to the same heat and smoke. He shouted over the roar of the blaze into his comm. link:

"Vision! I need another set of eyes up in here!"

The phantom android came. He set his own eyes to scan for the unique coldness of tempered vibranium. He knew the metal could absorb and redistribute heat just as well as kinetic energy. The man never let the shield stray far from his side. If he found the shield, he found the soldier. Hawkeye would be slightly harder to find, as his bow was a unique carbon-fiber that did not have the same properties. They would need Jean, Xavier, or Emma for that. T'Challa wouldn't be able to track in the smoke.

He found the cold spot of the shield quickly. Cap had been flung against a wall when the gas line had blown, his shield protecting him from the explosion. He was using the shield as best he could to block the flames and heat, coughing from the smoke. From the way he was favoring one side it was pretty clear he'd been hurt. Vision flew over to him through the smoke and fire and pulled him out straight through the wall.

"Jean? Can you find Hawkeye's psychic print for us?" Tony asked.

'_I've already found him, Stark. Torch got him a few seconds ago. Paramedics are seeing to him. Guy went all Leroy Jenkins and jumped from another window. He's alright. Couple of burns but he's being his usual complaining self and trying to scare the doctors away. You ask me I'm amazed he's doing all he is with a busted arm._'

Tony managed a dry laugh: "Yep. Sounds like Clint alright. Ignoring the doctor's orders."

[How many more are in the building, Stark?] T'Challa demanded. [How many life signals is Jarvis picking up?]

"Couple more but they're higher up where the fires are hottest. Think Galv and Thor and maybe Torch could go in and get them if Bobbie helps clear the way? Jarvis, lock onto those life signs and transmit coordinates to them, okay?"

[Just get in, grab the civs, and get out.] Ant-Man advised. [Try not to breathe too much of the stuff in. Thor, your biology doesn't permit you to be poisoned by the smoke like us but it's still an irritant. Worst you'll have is a sore throat for a couple of hours. Galv won't be bothered by it. His respiratory system is way different. We'll just need to be sure he doesn't start acreeting soot on his holo-form. Might de-stabilize it. Fire shouldn't hurt him since it's solidified energy but the heat might bother him. Torch'll need to be on his A-game.]

"No prob, Anty!" Torch called down to him. "I got this!"

"I'll give him a look-see afterwards." Tony assured. "Galv? You up for a fire run?"

[Yes. One moment. I can't have the holo-form running while I'm mid-air. Could result in a crash if it dispels suddenly. Thor, Torch, go in ahead of me and start tracking down the remaining civilians.] He then hacked the communication frequency of the Fantastic Four: [Ms. Storm, could you help him for a short time? I'll only be a moment. Too many people to land on the ground.]

[You got it, Avenger. Er, X-Men. Both? I've never seen anyone with more than one team badge before.]

[I'm special like that.]

He flew up to the roof of another building, set down, and activated the holo-form. Frantically he sprinted for the edge and launched himself off, black wings spreading wide. The look on Susan Storm's face very nearly made him grin. Rather than dive in right away, he stayed outside the shattered window that Thor and Torch had flown into. Simon, nearby, could almost hear his mind whirring. He wasn't hesitating. He was thinking. Fires were fed by oxygen and died when deprived of it. The smoke was also toxic to humans and could cause them to suffocate by filling their lungs and basically strangling them from the inside. Could Susan possibly...?

"Is there any way you could cover the building in a force field?" he asked.

Susan shook her head: "No. I see where you're going with that but we'd end up suffocating the civs and maybe even our own people. The fire would eat up the remaining oxygen before it burned out. After we get the civs out maybe I can try." She coughed as some smoke blew her way from the fire heat. "Storm! Get a bigger thundercloud here to help dispel the smoke!"

"I'm trying! The fire is not making it very easy!" shouted the weather witch in reply. But slowly and surely the skies above were darkening further as she bolstered the already present thundercloud. The drizzle turned into a downpour, soaking civilian and hero (and pet) alike. The fires hissed and weakened to a lower simmer, rainwater washing smoke from the air. But the rain could not reach inside so easily. There, the fires still burned. Bobbie was trying his best, but the fires were hotter than the type he could easily douse.

Thanking Storm, the holo-form flew into the shattered window and into the blaze within.

* * *

**Author's Note: So sorry! I would've gotten this done earlier today but I was with my bestie in Khemah most of the afternoon and early evening and having a blast with her, and I've also been having way too much fun with NotB lately. Shout out to ma person if you be readin' this! Love you girl! :3 Can't wait to go to SpaceCity Comicon on Saturday with you!**


	38. Chapter 38: Charred

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 38**

* * *

Heat washed over him even before he'd made it fully inside the building, but inside it scorched against his energy form. Smoke, thinning but still thick, billowed in front of his eyes. Fires danced around him on all sides, defiant, licking at his soot-black wings. The fire's insatiable hunger for anything flammable was a near-deafening roar in his ears, countered by the loud hiss of ice and water as Storm and Ice-Man met the flames head-on. Ash, soot, and smoke irritated his sensitive nostrils and throat.

The holo-form drowned these sounds out till they were nothing more than harsh whispers. There was only one sound he cared about right now: cries for help.

"I got your back, pal!"

He turned to see a flaming figure swoop in, the crest of the Fantastic Four visible even through his flame-cloaked body. Torch held his hands out and began absorbing more tendrils of flame. It was slow going even with superhuman help but the fires were being reigned in. Zemo had clearly had A.I.M design these devices, these immolation charges so he'd called them, to burn as hot and as long as possible. He had to pray the man was in a cell on the Raft by now. He didn't belong anywhere else. Setting fire to a whole building full of innocent people was on par with his acts in the past. These people hadn't deserved this. But of course Zemo cared very little for collateral damage or innocence. He probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash on being told the death toll of his act. It was only two, but two lives ended was still two lives.

Nodding to the young hero, he drew both sword and shield and headed into the inferno. Through the roar of the blaze he could pick up a woman's cry – older but still in her prime. Early to mid-fifties was his best guess. She sounded to be ahead of him and a ways to the right but through the smoke and fire and general debris it was hard to pick out a human figure. Woman must be one of the ones who had suffered from the brunt of immolation charges. She could be trapped or hurt.

"_Someone?! Can anyone hear me?!" _cried the voice frantically.

"Hold on! I'm coming!" he called back. He silently cursed his own raspy growl of a voice. He sounded more like a villain than a hero.

He opened a comm. link to Stark to ascertain where the human's bio-signature was located. These few seconds would pay back in folds, as the more time he spent searching the less oxygen there was in the air. As he was waiting for the feedback there came an ominous creaking-cracking noise from above, but with his senses dulled to sounds not made by the human voice he didn't quite hear it.

"GALV! LOOK OUT!" cried Torch. "ABOVE YOU!"

The holo-form jerked his head up in time to see the floor caving in above him. The hardwood floors and metal beams had taken too much structural damage and could no longer sustain the weight. He raised the energy shield to deflect some of the smaller debris, but there was no way in the Pit it would protect him if the entire floor came crashing down. So he leapt and rolled out of the way. He glanced back in time to see beams and floorboards and debris come crashing down in a burning heap. That sort of crush could've destabilized the holo-form for quite a while. If Torch hadn't warned him...

"Thank you!" he called back to him. He set his audials to be a bit more sensitive to the sounds the building and the fire made. It made hearing the noises made by the human voice somewhat harder to discern, but he would be no help in the rescue if _he _needed rescuing himself, or if the holo-form sustained too much damage to be usable.

"Any time, ro-bro!"

He had to stifle a smirk. Torch was humorous in his own odd way, and he meant well. He had a feeling he'd enjoy working with him. The Fantastic Four seemed a likable little team.

Checking the feedback and finding a bio-signature signal ahead of him, he darted forward. He heard the woman give a cry of alarm at the same time he heard that same ominous cracking-creaking sound that had very nearly spelled disaster for him. Another beam was straining under weight, moments away from snapping. From that cry he could only assume it was coming from above the woman. He broke into a sprint, skidding around a badly burned and damaged wall. There he saw the source of the cries, her legs trapped beneath a fallen bookshelf. A quick analysis showed damage indicative of a small, concentrated explosion – the immolation charge probably. He rushed closer. What didn't encourage him were the woman's wide, frightened eyes on seeing him approach through the flames.

"It's alright! I'm with the heroes!" he told her over the roaring flames. He held an arm out to show her the two team badges on the sleeve of his trench coat which had been added as his crests had been carved. The fear abated. "Now hold still! I'll get you out of here!"

The ceiling above groaned in protest but still held.

"Hurry!" she cried. When the ceiling groaned again she desperately tried to wrench her legs free only to shriek in fear when the ceiling groaned again.

"Stop! You're only hurting yourself! Please, remain calm!"

She fell still. He approached the fallen piece of furniture from the side and, gripping onto the wood, and hefted it from the ground. It came up with very little resistance. The woman's legs were thus revealed. They didn't appear badly harmed but the woman did not rise. There was fright in her eyes again, but no directed at him. He extended a hand, quickly glancing up at the ever-groaning ceiling. Already he could see it buckling. She accepted the hand, she tried to rise – but her legs seemed to have other ideas. They buckled beneath her.

"M-My legs. I-I think they're broken." she stammered. A series of violent coughs wracked her body. The smoke was having its effect on her.

"Hold still, then."

He knelt down and scooped her off the ground. He noted a bit anxiously that he legs seemed completely limp and, oddly enough, she wasn't complaining of any pain. A hint, a suspicion arose then: was the woman paralyzed?

Above, the ceiling buckled further, creaking and groaning in protest. He wasted no time. Frantically he searched for a means of egress from the building nearer than the one he used, but saw none. All he saw were scorched walls. Giving a faint snarl of frustration he ran back in the direction he'd come. Torch must have left to help the others on another floor, but the fires near the window were less intense than they had been a few minutes ago, though they still burned determinedly. The rubble was also still where it'd been left, forcing him to detour around it. Raising the shield, he charged through the flames, making a bee line for the shattered window.

"Wait, what are you...?!"

The woman stifled a shriek when he leapt into the open air and began diving down, black wings widening before tucking in slightly. Her grip tightened as she shut her eyes. It wasn't a steep angled dive but obviously the woman was not accustomed to flying. He spread them back out to spiral downwards and land in the midst of civilians, paramedics, and other heroes. He did not put her down just yet though. She couldn't stand on her own, and he wasn't about to drop her on the concrete.

"Medic! Is there a medic free?" he demanded.

At first glance all of them were occupied. But he caught the waving hand of a younger man with dark brown skin in blue uniform gesturing him over. Beside him was a familiar middle aged woman with long black hair in a ponytail: June. By that he suspected Jane was around here somewhere was well. He did not see Ratchet's vehicle form either. What he was most interested in at the moment was the free gurney next to the two healers. He went over to it and deposited his fire victim, and the paramedics set to work without delay. Galvatron hesitated to leave though, but he didn't want to do nothing. He opened a comm. channel to Stark, asking if all civilians were free of the blaze.

[You want another run? Go for the 67th floor. Couple of signals up there – twelve by my scanners. Ant-Man's got some of his little buddies up there with Wasp and Magneto. That floor suffered the worst explosion. Thinkin' Zemo's goons planted one of those charges near a gas main or something just as explosive. Whoever's up there might be badly hurt, so you'll have to be as gentle as you possibly can with 'em, alright?]

Vowing he would, he spread his wings and launched himself into the skies. There was one good thing about the fire he was finding: it made some pretty powerful thermal updrafts for him to ride, letting him save his efforts for rescuing. Of course, the thermals were growing weaker as the fire was fought and contained, but he made the most of the bad situation. On reaching the 67th floor, he met up with Bobbie, the young mutant working way up and down the building alongside the firefighters' hoses. Storm hovered above the building, straining to keep her localized downpour going strong. Bobbie nodded him in with a warning to be careful – and to watch out for the ants. And so once more he trudged through the fire's heat in a search for victims, mind on the rescue and not on vengeance for once. Time for that later.

The holo-form's red eyes searched the licking flames for human forms, weaving through hellishly burning halls and chambers. The heat here was even more stifling than in the previous floor of the building he'd been in. There was a bit of conundrum to this: fire needed oxygen to burn. The higher up one went the less oxygen there was. Granted this was no Mount Everest, but they were still a good fourteen hundred feet off the ground. So how was the fire managing to burn hotter the higher the elevation was? It was counter-intuitive.

He rounded a corner into an apartment. Something buzzed by his ear in a little blur of yellow and black at the same time part of the metal supports on the floor levitated up, formed a pillar, and stood to support another weakened part of the ceiling. Ants marched around in miniature platoons on the walls and ceilings, collecting data for Dr. Pym below, his suit not designed for use in fire. Through the fire and smoke he could pick out a familiar tall man in a violet and red caped suit of armor. Magneto was hard at work it seemed, keeping the floors and ceilings from collapsing while the other heroes worked on rescue.

"Any sign of the civilians?" Galvatron demanded.

"Wasp has managed to locate two of the twelve nearby. Jean and Susan will assist in extracting them. Dr. Pym is searching for others. I would assist but my efforts are required elsewhere."

Moments later Wasp zipped by with two civilians in tow, expertly guiding them through the maze of fire. Luckily these two appeared relatively unharmed aside from a few minor burns, scrapes, and obvious heat exhaustion. But they were able to move around which was encouraging. Perhaps the others were in a similar state. So he disappeared into the blaze, hoping his belief was true.

He wouldn't know it was only half true until he found three more bodies on that floor, smoldering and broken. Iron Man and Vision found two more further up. In total with the two bodies found earlier, that brought the death tole of Zemo's act thus far to seven.

Seven innocent people.

Dead.

Dead because he, Simon, and Quake hadn't reacted fast enough.

* * *

It took another two hours to get the building emptied of civilians and the roaring inferno under control. But in the end it was managed. The building, though billowing with steam and smoke, was at least salvageable. Some floors had fared better than others, but the tower at least still stood. Crews could restore to its former state given time, resources, and funding. That still left those who had been in the tower homeless. Considering it was a luxury condo tower however, homelessness could probably be readily solved.

The casualties by then amounted to nine, wrapped in black and loaded into ambulances not busy transporting the seriously injured to the nearest hospital, Metro-General. Identities would come later for some, but others were charred beyond easy recognition from the super-heated fires. The police would be the ones to identify them through records. News crews had arrived by then as well to interview survivors. They were told by firefighters and paramedic alike that they were lucky it was a work day and many in the tower had been away from home doing their jobs. That had helped prevent further casualties they said. If it had been a weekend the death tole could've been a lot higher.

Storm and Bobbie stuck around to offer further help, but Magneto and Jean left the scene alongside the Hulk. Apparently the green ogre was bored now that the preliminary dangers were passed. Hawkeye and Ms. Marvel went with him to make sure he didn't cause any trouble. June made a few runs to nearby medical facilities for extra supplies. Ant-Man went as well, looking haunted and harried. The Fantastic Four stuck around with the rest of the Avengers. Galvatron did not leave either, though he watched from atop another nearby building to stay out of the way. In a way, he was responsible for this destruction. By not reacting swiftly enough, Zemo had had time to hit the detonator.

'_But was there any way to know what he would do with it? Was there any way of knowing if he was bluffing his way out?_'

A barely audible growl escaped. Was he going to keep making excuses for his mistakes?

'_I am not making excuses. Baron Zemo is a complicated villain. He is sly, intelligent. Not even Captain Rogers, who has the most experience with him, can claim to understand his thought processes enough to predict what he will do in any situation. Yes, he often tries to escape capture, but more than once he has bluffed in order to do so. And with a man like that it is very difficult to know if he is lying or being truthful. Quake, Wonder Man, and you yourself do not have enough experience with him to make such guesses, and Ms. Johnson was wounded. That left her reaction time severely hampered._'

Another growl. Going by what Xavier taught him, he slammed a mental door in the entity's faceplates. He did not want to talk about this right now. In his opinion he _should've _known – because Zemo was much like his old self with Starscream's cunning thrown into the mix. And besides, he'd worked with him in the past, albeit for a short time. He _should've _known whether he was bluffing or in deadly earnest.

A familiar brown haired, lanky youth in a pale green jacket and jeans also made an appearance alongside the many other reporters, keeping a respectful distance and snapping pictures, identified even more easily by the Daily Bugle lanyard around his neck: "_Peter Parker_." Further in was another man surrounded by Daily Bugle cameras and interviewing some of the lingering survivors and eyewitnesses. He was tall, middle-aged, had pale coppery hair cut short, and wore a brown jacket over a blue suit. Blue eyes were rimmed by glasses. He was identified by a little pin on his jacket as "Ben Urich." Aside from the smell of cigarette smoke that Galvatron detected from the occasional air current coming in his direction, he seemed the reputable sort. The Avengers seemed to know him, which was even more interesting. How had they come to know him exactly? For that matter, who _was _Ben Urich?

It was ironic really that the reporters for the Bugle seemed more courteous and well-behaved than their employer. At the end of the day that was probably a good thing. Jameson gave media persons everywhere a bad name. Still, annoying him was fairly entertaining...

He contented himself to watch from above, letting his anger at himself and at Zemo simmer at a low broil. How he just wanted to squash the man underpede right now.

* * *

As the hours wore on towards late afternoon, the crowd and media gradually dispersed. Victims and eyewitnesses set up temporary lodgings in the homes of friends or in hotels. June, the dark-skinned male paramedic, and Jane herself lingered while their co-workers finished up the last of their runs. Only a few intrepid reporters and photographers remained, Urich and Parker among them. Why they were still there soon became apparent:

Ben Urich went over to the clustering of heroes, but this time no news cameras followed him. "Avengers! FF! Firefighters say the fire was intentionally set. They'll have to come back to see what set it off exactly. Some eyewitnesses report seeing, hearing, or feeling small explosions before the the building went up. Any idea what those could've been?"

Looks were exchanged. Urich could almost hear them silently debating what precisely to tell him. They knew he was an investigate reporter with good intentions, but they were also well aware his methods at getting information could sometimes be a little...unorthodox. Like breaking into Jessica Drew's office that one time. Then again, that _had _been after she'd broken into _his_ office...tit-for-tat he supposed. She'd shrugged it off in the end. Besides, he was one of the few reporters out there with insight and connections with the criminal underworld, so he made a habit of sharing that info with the people who could use it – the police (the ones who weren't on a crime lord's payroll anyway) and heroes.

Tony approached him and held out a gauntleted hand. In it was a charred, battered device not much bigger than a large smartphone. Urich gingerly took it in his hands, flipping it over a few times. There wasn't much left on it, or of it for that matter, but there were a few flecks of a pretty distinctive yellow paint on one side.

"Pretty sure A.I.M's involved in this." Tony said. "Only people I know of that can make something like this aside from maybe me, S.H.I.E.L.D or Oscorp."

"What I don't understand is why they would target a place like this. Stark Tower or the Oscorp Tower or an Apple store or even S.H.I.E.L.D – that's more their line." T'Challa argued. "But a condominium tower? This is unusual for them."

Urich looked at the Wakandan. "You think somebody else is behind this, huh? A.I.M was just the hired help."

T'Challa nodded.

[I know who did it.] a somewhat gravelly voice said over his Bluetooth. [And the Avengers and X-Men have every right to ban me from their ranks for it.]

The reporter put a hand to the device to tone out unnecessary sounds. "Whoa. One sec. Who the hell is this?"

[Look up and to the left.]

Urich did as told. For a moment he didn't see anything right away, and the sun in that direction forced him to squint and shade his eyes. But he did spot something after about fifteen seconds of scanning the buildings. Something was peeking off the top of one such building, one lower to the ground than the other skyscrapers. It looked suspiciously like the nose of an advanced aircraft, colored dark grey and violet with some odd dirty grey-brown accents. He knew that giant metal aliens were living amongst the human race right now, and he'd seen a similarly colored aircraft flying around the city. He'd also heard from Parker that the Avengers had a new member, but that had been a while ago. The voice had mentioned the X-Men though, and there'd been a bit of a hullabaloo lately around that area. Coincidentally, Kelly's anti-mutant campaign had also gotten a lot more covert since some stranger with wings had come in and given him a hard time.

"Oh. Hello up there. Now, you mind tellin' me what the self-accusation's all about?"

Every hero jerked their heads up suddenly to where Urich was looking.

"Galv. What's going on?" Cap asked over the Avengers frequency.

"You're not claiming responsibility for this, are you?" Wasp asked, eyes wide. "Because there's no way I'm believing you did this."

[In a way, I _am _responsible...] The voice was now also on the frequency of the Avengers and the X-Men.

"Then explain how." T'Challa said. There was something in the alien's voice that he didn't like – the ring of truth. The mech had a tendency to keep secrets, but once he was called out on them he was implicitly honest.

[_Zemo_. He...he took Jack and Miko hostage in Wasp's penthouse, along with a S.H.I.E.L.D operative named Quake. Gave me an ultimatum: if I came there and surrender to him, die as a traitor, he would allow them to go free. I came – Williams followed me – and we essentially outwitted him by playing on his ego. So far as I know he is in a cell in the Raft. Quake gave me an update about two hours ago and said he _is_ in lockup. Jack and Miko are fine. But...that wasn't before he pulled a detonator out and hit the trigger. We all saw the building go up in flame seconds later. This – all this destruction is my fault. Quake was too weak to react so quickly, and Williams didn't react fast enough either. I failed to react fast enough. And it cost nine people their lives.]

Urich stared at the talkative aircraft for a minute in silence. Finally a low whistle escaped from his pursed lips. That...yeesh. Ouch. The truth hurt. Like it or not, that did make him responsible, though technically the blame was on Zemo. Jameson might not see it that way if he found out. He'd slander the alien's name till he was in his grave. Which was why he'd let the teams keep it between themselves. The real villain was in lockup. That was what really mattered. Besides, Spidey dealt with enough of Jameson's slandering as it was. So did Cap and Winter Soldier. He wasn't about to put that on someone else. He worked for Jameson, sure. Didn't mean he supported his views.

Silently, the alien lifted off the rooftop and sped off.

"Galv! Galv, wait! Come back!" Bobbie cried. He kinda suspected he wouldn't turn around either way. Having nine lives on top of all the other ones you had on your conscience was bound to leave you upset.

And like he thought, Galvatron did not turn back. There was no way the youth could understand this level of shame-filled pain. He didn't deserve to be around them right now. Failing to rescue every missing mutant from the MRD and finding them all injured to some degree, that was one thing. At least they'd all survived. That was excusable to an extent. Getting nine innocent people killed in a hellish fire he could've prevented was another matter entirely. Nine innocent people to add to a list he'd hoped to leave stagnant forever more.

The crests so recently carved into his mesh felt as if they were burning.

* * *

"_Evidence and witness testimony has not yet been released to the public at large. Who did this and how it happened is currently unknown, but there is reason to believe the fire was intentionally set. That much has been revealed. What is also known is that__ without the aid of the New York's vigilant defenders, powered and not, authorities say the consequences of this seemingly random attack could've been much worse._"

The monitor flickered. Another news channel, this one local, was shown.

"_Who set the blaze at the condo tower is unknown, and authorities are not revealing anything yet, but two surviving tenants report being visited by people who appeared as maintenance workers. Each was there for differing reasons. Whether or not this was a combined effort on the part of these individuals or whether they were acting under another's instruction __–__ no one knows the answer just yet. Back to __–_"

Another flicker. Another channel. A tear-stained visage was shown.

"_I told my mother not to move to New York. Too much insanity going on. Supervillains and aliens and gods. The place isn't safe. 'Move to Maine.' I kept telling her. 'O-Or Virginia or Pennsylvania. Anywhere but New York._' _She was always too stubborn for her own good...and now she's gone..._' Speech devolved at that point.

Once more the monitor flickered.

"_What have I always said about 'heroes,' New_ _York?_" Jameson's irritated voice boomed. "_They are a danger to this city and her people! Nine dead in a fire we all know was set by a supervillain! Probably done to spite one of these people! These heroes are a menace! Either they work under the watch of the official spectrum, or we drive them out of town! And how do we know it wasn't that alien who __–_"

"Shut it off, Romanov."

S.H.I.E.L.D Special Agent Natasha Romanov did as told. A push of a button on the small remote in her hand made the monitor go blankly black.

"Sir." she said slowly. "You do realize the backlash this is going to cause. It'll be as bad as the Skrull invasion, maybe worse. This is the first time the heroes have been involved in an incident where people have died. They are the easiest party to pin blame on. Jameson is already going at it, and we both know his papers and website are viewed by a good fraction of New Yorkers. The teams have handled negative public opinions of them, but I don't they could handle the backlash that this will certainly bring their way."

Director Fury said nothing. He stared at the black screen as it searching for an answer this budding problem, his frown betraying that he liked none of them. He'd always supported the Avengers and the Fantastic Four despite their tendencies to reach beyond their limitations, and he'd always tried to maintain neutrality when dealing with mutants; there was too much political bs going on with them. But still...Widow made a valid point. This wasn't like the last times public opinion had turned on the teams. In those instances there had been no loss of life, only injuries. Here, nine civilians had perished in a fire he knew had been set by a supervillain. Quake had said as much when she had reported in. Which one hardly mattered – that a villain had done this and the heroes had failed to save everyone was enough to set fire to the powder keg.

"Sir? What do we do?" Romanov prompted.

He leaned back in his chair. There was the obvious route of his agency defending the heroes. He supported them, after all. But that might only worsen the situation. Then, of course, there was Hill's option of registration. But he wasn't exactly a fan of that option. Having them working for the government or S.H.I.E.L.D would hinder them too much by bogging them down with politics and regulations. It would probably make Hill and people like her happy, yet at the same time it might just increase the danger.

"Observe for now. I won't play any hands until the situation starts to build. Responding too soon in any way would generate more opposition."

Black Widow nodded. "Yes, sir."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is late! Slightly shorter. Had a lot going on this past week. Anways, enjoy. :D**


	39. Chapter 39: The Fearful Perfection

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 39**

* * *

He didn't know how far he'd flown and was only vaguely aware of a half hour passing. Manhattan became a blur of buildings and vehicles and people beneath him. Frankly, he cared about neither. But he refused to leave the confines of the city. If Fury was upset at him over this – and he assumed he would be because there was no way in the Pit he'd let this offense slide; it was a forgone conclusion he already knew – he'd rather not give him reason to turn the Helicarrier's weapons and the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D against him. That wasn't even to mention that temperamental crackpot Jameson would have everything he would need to launch a slander campaign against him and the heroes involved in rescue efforts.

What did care about, at least marginally, was the blip on his scanners. It had been following him from below pretty consistently for about seven minutes now. The way it moved was very unusual. The signal would slow slightly before surging forward again, performing this pattern repeatedly. It was also unfortunately easily recognizable. He'd seen that movement style on his first day after the battle with the Wrecking Crew. Not walking, not flying, not teleporting – _swinging_. There was only one hero who moved around that way that he knew of:

Spider-Man. How much trouble Peter Parker would get in with Jameson for either not arriving to deliver his photos or bailing in the middle of a conversation he could only imagine. The boy was risking his employer's ire by doing this.

He tried to speed up but something incredibly sticky connected with the underside of one of his thrusters. He was stunned that, when he tried to keep going forward, a force yanked bank with incredible strength. He directed his scanners below to find the young wall-crawler atop a building, both hands around an incredibly thick line of home-made webbing. He could see the youth's muscles straining to keep his catch from moving. His adhesion abilities kept his feet firmly locked on the rooftop, but even then they skidded by a few milometers. Galvatron admitted to himself he was impressed. The boy was much stronger than his lanky build suggested, and his webbing was like a steel cable. Had he upgraded it since he'd seen him last?

"Oh no you don't! You're _not _running away!" shouted the wall-crawler, voice straining but still strong. "You run and I call _all_ the Avengers and the X-Men. I know their numbers. Specifically I know Cap's, Tony's, Pym's, T'Challa's, and Wasp's. Xavier can hear me just fine if I mind-shout loud enough, and he'll get the other X-Men over here in an instant. And you don't want that right now do you, big guy?"

'_Blackmail_?' Galvatron thought in surprise. '_Hm. He's more of a manipulator than I believed him to be._'

He stopped tugging against the web-cable. Spider-Man relinquished his vice grip on it, yanking it off cleanly, and let him circle 'round to meet him. There was something different in his attitude now. His arms were crossed, and even though his face was masked he could tell the boy's eyes were boring into him like a stern parent's.

"What?" he demanded. "If you're here to lecture me you're wasting your time."

"I'll waste my time how I like, thanks." Spider-Man shot back crisply. "Now, you're _gonna_ stay here and you're _gonna_ let me talk, or so help me I'll use up all the webbing in my shooters and in the spare cartridges I carry to _pin you to the freaking floor_. You are not running, not here, not now, not ever. You're not a coward. I'm not joking here, pal. Do I make myself one hundred percent clear? No. Running. Siddown, shut up, and let me talk."

Galvatron remained silent. The boy was persistent, he'd give him that much. His tone was also much more heated and serious than he remembered. The sense of humor he knew had vanished completely. No longer was he quipping endless jokes and playfully teasing of those around him. He had suddenly matured, grown older. There seemed to be a weight of some kind on him that he could sense, forcing him into deadly seriousness.

"Speak then." said the mech.

The youth gusted out a relieved sounding sigh, thankful he'd won him over for the time being. He knew what the mech needed: a reality check. Every hero wound up getting one at some point, either through a friend or through harsh and sometimes cruel fate. Spider-Man himself fell into both categories.

"I wasn't always as good a hero as I was in the past, Galv. I admit I'm still learning, too. I'm not like the Avengers or the X-Men or even the FF and the Guardians. Those guys, they're seasoned veterans compared to me. I don't have a team to fall back on and I don't really have team mates to practice fight with, so a lot of what I learn I learn on the job. Bad part about that is – if you make a mistake out in the field, even a tiny one, it can come back at hit you like a freight train. It could be minutes later, or hours, or days, or weeks, months, or even years. And because I don't have a team or a way of training with others, I made a lot of mistakes when I started out, and I still make them. Everybody screws up now and again, but I screwed up so badly I got someone I cared for _killed _and another person later on got seriously hurt. And you know what? I wound up forgiving myself for the first one even though I still feel horrible about it and it haunts me, and the other person forgave me. Why? _Because nobody's perfect_, no matter how hard we try to be."

Galvatron said nothing. He had suspected this was personal, but he never would've guessed someone as light-hearted, cheerful, and energetically playful as Spider-Man had suffered that kind of loss and hurt. He hid it remarkably well. Who were the two people though? He was not going to ask. That was not something to be pressed. Either Parker would tell him or he would leave it unsaid.

"I don't hide that pain if that's what you're thinking. I still feel awful about both. But my Uncle Ben always told me that forgiving yourself is the best thing you can do. If you don't, you keep letting a mistake define you. Your problem is that you're a perfectionist out of what I _think_ is fear. You're afraid of making a mistake because you've already made so many. You're afraid if you make a mistake, people will jump to conclusions and paint you as the bad guy all over again. Another bit of advice from my Uncle: don't run from your mistakes or problems. That isn't productive and it paints a bad picture. What you're _supposed _to do is turn and face them. Yes, you didn't react fast enough when dealing with Zemo. Yes, the building got set on fire. Yes, nine people got killed. But you're forgetting all the people you, the Avengers, and X-Men, and the FF _helped save_. That woman Cap says you rescued. She's not condemning you. She _freaking owes you her_ _life_." Here, the youth became a bit hesitant. "A-And what about those mutant kids you rescued? Got word of that little feat through Bobbie. They don't hate you. Again, _they owe you their lives_. So stop – just _stop _beating yourself up. It's not healthy. Nobody's perfect. Not you, not me, not Cap – nobody's perfect. We all mess up. Just accept that. Stop trying so hard to be perfect. It just makes the emotional backlash uglier."

His red optics narrowed, but there was no harsh glint in them. Just pain.

"You want me to accept that nine people died because of my mistake – one I could have prevented no less? Nine. Innocent. People?"

"_Yes. _Letting a wound fester just adds to the pain. Believe me, _I know_."

He stared at him for a while in shocked silence. The youth heaved another sigh as if thankful to get a burden off his shoulders. A good fraction of the heat in his voice faded when he spoke next:

"Look. Situations like that'll happen. There's just no way around it. Villains will be villains. If we can't stop them from doing something, most we can do is try to minimize the damage and/or contain the situation. And not everybody survives those situations. Goblin's proof of that. I try every single time during his attacks to get everyone out safely. I managed all but one time. A friend of mine got hurt because Gobby knew me well enough to predict what I'd do. He held me at an impasse: if I saved one he'd kill the other. If I chose neither, he'd kill both. You're not the bad guy for not reacting in time, Galv. You didn't cause those people to die. You didn't strangle them or burn them or detonate explosives in their faces. Those deaths are on his head, not yours."

Still he stared. His spark was still screaming his self-hate and anger but his processor was grasping his words like they were magnets. He wasn't saying this as a means of lessening the pain. This was him trying to remove the sense of guilt that he harbored.

"Stop feeling guilty for acts someone else did. Stop running from your fears. You're better than that. You faced down freaking robo-Mephisto like four times now. You faced down Death, like, I dunno even how many times you've done that, and she's probably pulling her hair out in frustration or just given up on you. And hey – you survived each one. Nobody comes out of fights like that weaker. You come out stronger. Lemme give you a tip about that fear of yours: draw it in real close, look it in the eye, and give it the meanest slap to the face you can possibly imagine. You're better than your fear, pal. Honestly, the person most afraid of you, the person most angry at you right now is not anyone out there. It's _you_."

More staring. Finally, something seemed to click in his mind – and it also felt like someone had just smacked him across the face mercilessly with an oil rig. Spider-Man was right in every aspect. He _was_ afraid. He was afraid of failure, afraid of disappointing the heroes, and justly afraid of them and S.H.I.E.L.D turning on him. The last time the heroes had turned on him, he had very nearly died. Add S.H.I.E.L.D into the equation...

"You're right." he muttered. "I am afraid. And fear is not befitting of a former gladiator of Kaon." He looked down at the wall-crawler curiously. "But how did you know I was? Was it that obvious to you?"

The white eyes of Spider-Man's mask widened: "Honestly? I was just taking a semi-educated wild stab in the dark. I knew you were upset. I didn't have a clue that you were scared. I'm good with people but I'm not exactly a licensed psychologist or anything. Sooo...yay me? I guessed right? Woo?" His arms went up in the air a little, palms out and waving a bit.

He couldn't help a wry smile forming at the boy's tentative happiness at having guessed correctly. That smile of his remained a split second longer on feeling a familiar soft burning in his spark. Another lesson learned, and thus the healing progressed.

"If you wanna be left alone, I'll let you go now. But I'll say that after this the last thing someone needs is to be alone. Go check on the mutants; go visit your friends in Nevada. Go pay the FF a visit or something. Or you can come hang with me and Urich and the NYPD. Jameson's kinda-sorta banned from there whenever a superhuman's in the building, so you can hole up there safely. Impound yard should be big enough for ya. We're looking into how those devices got inside in the first place. Wonder Man's back and helping. Tony, Pym, and a couple of the geeks had to head off again - something about 'finishing up with the upgrades?' I think."

"Another matter, unrelated to this." he said vaguely. The boy knew of the rescue, but had Ice-Man given him more information than that? Did he know one more mutant was still missing? He hadn't seemed to.

"'Kay. Well, pick and choose. No finding a corner and moping, you hear? Or I'll call Wade in and have him annoy the holy heck outta you till you run screaming into the nearest wall. I got his number, too." Threateningly he brought out his cell phone and waggled it at him.

Galvatron nodded silently. Really what he felt like doing was patrolling to find some means of making up for his previously bad performance. But if the boy was saying he was not to be left alone right now...he would abide by it. There was someone he needed to visit at Hangar E. Besides, he wanted to know whether or not the teens had been transported back or whether they were elsewhere. He needed to have a little talk with Miko about how precisely one taunted a villain _safely_. She could taunt perfectly well – perhaps _too _well. That was the problem. He intended to address the issue before it got her hurt or killed, because he knew this would not be the last time they were put in danger.

* * *

"What. The. Hell. Happened?!"

Fowler glowered at him from the catwalks that ringed the hangar. A deep frown marred his face and his dark eyes flashed and burned angrily. That was basically the first thing he heard and saw upon exiting the groundbridge. It was far from a good start.

The mech winced. In hindsight he probably should've expected Fowler to be upset with him – though upset was probably putting it too mildly. If anyone looked capable of taking a rifle and shooting Galvatron for good measure, he certainly did. He had every right to be mad at him, too. If word got out that a Cybertronian was indirectly involved in the fire, things could get...unpleasant on the legal side of things. The government already was a bit leery of them. This could be the last straw. But he had to remind himself Fowler was not asking who was responsible. He simply wanted to know what occurred. So he told him. But he did not say he was responsible directly, for he wasn't. There wasn't a correlation – merely a causality. Even if he had reacted the Baron might've still pressed the detonator or created another moral dilemma to distract them. At the very least Zemo was now in custody on the Raft, though the cost of his capture was far too high to be cheerful about.

Fowler blinked at that and some of the bluster went out of the man. He had been so irritated that he hadn't noticed there was pain in the grey mech's red gaze. Pain and guilt. He really did feel at least partially responsible for the fire and those nine deaths. He was taking partial responsibility for this tragedy. Again, the absolute stark contrast between who was now and who he had been was staggering. The old him wouldn't have batted an optic at this. New him was really taking this hard. Still, that didn't diminish this in the slightest. This could still cause or mean problems for him – and possibly for Ratchet and the unaligned Neutrals who were scattered around the globe.

"Lay off, Fowler." growled a familiar Asiatic girl's voice. "You're not helping."

Across the hangar on the opposite catwalk was Miko, a strip of gauze medically taped to her neck. Jack stood beside her silently. Ratchet watched the two parties warily. Jack normally wasn't easily roused into anger. Miko on the other hand...her emotions were more prone to sudden shifts. Galvatron – he could only imagine how hard he was taking this. The old Megatronous had been less violently inclined and far more interactive and protective, letting things get to him that the ordinary person wouldn't. He remembered Orion detailing some of their heated debates on politics and ethics. The mech could become quite hot in the helm over them, not to mention voluble.

"I am laying off. I don't know whether or not the powers that be will. Like it or not I have to report to them everything that happens relating to the 'Bots. Full disclosure."

Miko's eyes widened: "You're ratting him out?! Not cool, dude!"

"I'm not ratting him out." Fowler argued tersely. "I'm reporting what happened. I can't help what they take away from the report. I'll try my best to defend him but...this could mean trouble. Not just for the 'Bots but for superheroes as a whole. A supervillain _was_ involved, and indirectly an ex-Decepticon, and this is the highest death tole to date caused by a baddie's acts. Normally heroes can intervene in time and people merely wind up with injuries. But no one expected this or had a way to predict or stop this before it started."

Galvatron winced. Hearing it said aloud just made the fresh wound sting even more. There _should _have been a way to predict or stop the fire and those nine unnecessary deaths. That was the worst part – there _should've _been. Yet on thinking about it...there was no way for anyone to have known what Zemo had been up to, not unless someone had reported odd activity or persons in the vicinity of the building, and Zemo would have taken care to keep his lackeys under the radar. Egotistical and gloating, yes, but he was no fool. A telepath could have read his mind perhaps, but only Cerebro permitted long range mental intrusion, and it was currently not usable thanks to its being upgraded in collusion by Forge and Beast.

Fowler felt a little bad about aggravating a still fresh emotional wound, but there wasn't much he could do about it. These things had to be faced and dealt with. He just had to hope Bryce wouldn't tear the poor mech's helm off when he gave his report, or tried to have him and Ratchet deported back to Cybertron in cuffs. The man wasn't nearly so lenient as he was...and he had an unfortunate habit of mishearing things.

Silence reigned in the hangar for what felt to the inhabitants like an eternity. In that time, Fowler disappeared out into the wide expanse of Area 51. Jack seemed torn between following him to back him up or staying in the hangar to help how he could. In actual fact only a minute or two passed.

Galvatron broke the silence: "Miko. I need a word with you."

The spunky Asian suddenly looked wary. Her body tensed as she readied to make a break for it. That look on his faceplates said she was in trouble, and he _had _said something about having a talk with her on the phone earlier...

"Run and I'll simply grab you. You know that."

She eyed Jack. He nodded. Her body loosened up.

"Miko, while I admire your bravery in the face of threats, including me in the past – for Primus's sake _don't _go taunting a man like Baron Zemo. I assume you were stalling for time or attempting to distract him, but Zemo is a very intelligent time bomb. You are _exceedingly_ lucky that he didn't lash out at you. He is not one for honoring a deal. He saw you as too valuable to harm at the time. I put emphasis on 'at the time.' You're lucky that scratch is the only wound you sustained." He gestured to his own neck meaningfully.

Miko shuffled a foot a bit shyly, gaze downward. She hadn't really appreciated the danger till now. She'd just been excited at being immersed in the whole supervillain/superhero conflict for once. And in a kind of super dangerous way she had enjoyed annoying Zemo and tempting fate while she was at it. It had provided a thrill.

"Sorry." she muttered.

"I'm not upset at you. All I'm saying is be more mindful over who precisely you fling taunts at and how you word them. Zemo is volatile but he's egotistical enough to gloat and preen when prompted or baited. If you'd attempted the same strategy with Abomination or one of the Wrecking Crew you might be in the hospital right now. But..." Miko's head jerked up to see a devious little glimmer in his red optics. "At least now you have a battle scar to show your partners."

She grinned. He was right! She hadn't thought about that! She could totally brag to Bulkhead that she'd squared off against Baron Zemo and a little cut was all she'd suffered. She knew some martial arts and was turning into a bit of a parkour junkie thanks to all her time with the 'Bots. It was at least _half _believable.

Jack groaned and smacked a hand to his forehead. And the warning lecture had been going _so _well, too. This is what happened when someone other than Optimus or Ratchet did this sort of thing.

"Well." Ratchet attempted a bit gruffly. "All that aside for a moment, I do have one piece of good news for you, Galvatron. Over there. I expect you'll be happy to have these back."

The medic nodded over to the work-table where a familiar dark grey fusion cannon lay beside a retractable blade in its sheathe. Two red optics widened as their owner drew near them. His mind and peripheral vision only dimly registered Jack and Ratchet watching him closely. He picked up the cannon to examine it. It looked just like the old one he'd lost, but it felt...lighter somehow. His tactile sensors said it was the same weight as the old one, so the weight difference was only perceived. The same odd phenomena went for the newly forged blade. Perhaps they felt lighter because they weren't bagged down with misdeed after misdeed. They were _clean _of such sins.

"I could re-implement them now or later. That is entirely up to you."

"If you could do it now, I would appreciate it. I'd prefer the cannon be implemented first so I have a ranged weapon again. The blade can wait if necessary."

"Alright, then. Over here." He motioned for him to come.

He went over to medical berth and sat. Ratchet came over with the cannon and some tools. He set to work almost at once. The medic first dulled the limb by deactivating certain neurode pathways in it. A portable laser cutter came out next. It carved open a section of the arm to reveal the intricate wiring beneath that he would manipulate. The mech barely reacted at this, patiently waiting. A sideways glance revealed Miko and Jack had taken up positions nearer where he was and were watching with interest.

"Ew. Are those, like, nerves and blood vessels or something?" Miko gawked in intrigue. She'd seen Bulkhead practically rip open a Vehicon that one afternoon, had seen all those wires and cables. This was a little different though. Those had been all messed up and damaged and stuff. These were still actively working, pumping alien robot blood through her pal.

Ratchet decided to at least humor her with a more accurate description. Galvatron didn't appear to mind. Megatronous had never been a truly patient mech, much preferring to be actively doing something, but this mech certainly was. At times, anyway.

"These bundles of wiring that you see are our equivalent of a nervous system. These and these –" He pointed. "–are Energon feed cables. These are conversion cables and electrical generators. They work in tandem to convert Energon into a plasma state by exciting it, enabling us to fire it from weapons. Some of these are damaged and not working as well as in a healthy Cybertronian, which could mean his cannon won't be quite as powerful as it was in the past. We'll have to wait and see. But might I say that Forge has done an excellent job with internal repairs thus far. I can barely notice the former damage in some areas. I see he managed to repair at least one of those generators fairly recently."

"I've been keeping him occupied over the past month or so." Galvatron admitted. "He's very talented with machines, though he had to radio in for outside assistance a few times as I said before. He still has some things he wants to at least attempt to repair, but he's now busy on upgrading Cerebro. I managed to convince him that's more important than tinkering on the resident alien."

The medic managed an amusedly derisive snort at him while he readied to attach the cannon. This idiot was so concerned about the welfare of others he neglected his own. Typical. His own badly arranged priorities list would be what offed him at this rate, not a supervillain. Shaking his helm mentally, he went about wiring the cannon's base into the internal wiring and cabling of the limb. That tedious, delicate task accomplished, he grabbed an arc welder and sealed the weapon's base into place.

"Let that weld set. Don't fire it until that's done and you've run some calibrations and diagnostics. I'd rather not have your arm blown off because of a faulty wire or circuit." Ratchet said curtly. "Understood?"

"Perfectly." The great grey mech rose. Ratchet roughly shoved him back down.

"Ep, ep. You're not free to go just yet. Let me have a look at your holo-form and air vents first. I need to make sure there's no soot in either."

Sighing faintly, Galvatron remained where he was and let the medic conduct his exam.

* * *

**Author's Note: Another short-ish chapter. Been busy with other things like learning to parallel park and self-tutoring myself for my math class in the fall. :P And job hunting. I should have my license soon though! :D**


	40. Chapter 40: A Savage Discovery

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 40**

* * *

Galvatron was released from Ratchet's clutches as soon as the cantankerous medic was sure he was fine. He did not leave right away like he was usually wont to do. He chose to linger around instead. He was of the suspicion Fowler would want him on site if the military base's leaders desired to speak with him about the failure back in New York. That, and he just couldn't bring himself to face Scott, Xavier, or even Rogers. He wasn't afraid of retribution, not anymore. It was his own shame that kept him from facing those men. Parker's little speech had helped with that but it hadn't removed the sense entirely.

'_Maybe that had been the point. The speech wasn't a cure; it was a bandage._'

It seemed mediocre on first glance, but a bandage's job was to stop the bleeding and keep the injury from getting infected and thus worsening, allowing it time to mend. It wasn't a total cure, true. He knew better than most that it was impossible to completely cure a bad scar, especially an emotional one. A bandage was far preferable to an open, infected, festering wound that refused to heal. Time was the only cure for emotional injury, and with the millenia of baggage he carried it would be a long, arduous healing process. However, he did have catalysts for that healing – more than he could have dreamed of on Cybertron. That was a thing he was coming to appreciate with the heroes: they absolutely, completely, and utterly refused to give up on him. They were probably about as stubborn as he was, if not more so. No matter how impossible the odds seemed or how dark the time was they would never lie down and accept it.

Was that what really made a hero – that stupid yet admirable tenacity? Their optimism? Their sheer will-power?

'_A hero is rarely defined by a single trait, child. Some display certain traits more than others. For Stark and Forge and many like them, their trait is ingenuity. For Thor, honor and valor. For Rogers, hope and freedom. There are some who display some of the darker traits __–__ vengeance for example __–__ but on the whole each hero carries with them a codex of traits that define who they are. It is up to them to decide which trait or traits to exhibit to the world and to themselves._'

He thought on that. He thought back to the mysterious Punisher vigilante mentioned on one of his first nights who hunted the Maggia crime family. Despite his extreme methods...was his cause justified, at least in his mind? Removing dangerous criminals permanently from the street was frowned upon by most heroes – but in the end, didn't someone need to do it, do what other heroes were too squeamish or moral to do? The Punisher – was he Retribution?

'_Perhaps. I was thinking more along the lines of the Ghost Rider, but the Punisher is another good example of a hero who displays darker character traits to achieve a "lighter" goal. There must always be a balance between light and dark. If there is too much light, it blinds, creates a sense of false security. If there is too much darkness, it obscures and terrifies. I do not condone his acts of private vengeance but I admit that his acts in the grand sense help to maintain that balance. And, in truth, he is justified to an extent._'

Oh? Justified how? Strange was the day a creator entity felt murder was justified.

A sigh came: '_That is not a story to come so close on the fire. It is far more depressing. In any event, the Punisher prefers to remain anonymous and alone. I do not support his acts but I do respect that desire. His fight is a personal one, not a public one. That is not your fight, Galvatron. Unless he asks for you specifically I advise you remain aloof from him. He is not like the Ghost Rider. Mr. Blaze is quite contained and polite in contrast. He is a man who would sooner shoot a reformed villain dead than give them a chance to prove their change._'

Hmph. Well, when he put it _that_ way...maybe it was best he not bother the Punisher. Some people worked better alone.

'_Thank you for actually holding a conversation with me. I...apologize for the outburst earlier. I had no right to take that out on you._'

The entity within did not answer verbally. Galvatron simply felt a subtle warmth, like a scarf, encircle his life force for a moment. Then it faded. He did not need words to know he was forgiven, his outburst understood. Was there nothing he could do to get the entity truly angry at him, to hate him? Did he simply not know how to hate?

'_You could...put it like that I suppose. I can feel anger, remorse, and many other negative emotions. But I cannot feel hate. That is for the best. If Unicron could feed on the hate of a fellow cosmic entity, one to whom he is deeply linked no less..._'

"Hey, Galv. You there? Hello?"

"Galv! You in there big guy?"

Jack and Miko's voices drew him out of his conversation. His red gaze focused on them in return. He'd been so lost in his own mind he'd barely heard them, and he certainly hadn't paid attention to Ratchet's finishing his exam. The two teens looked confused and a little worried.

"Yes?"

"You okay? You looked sorta spaced out for a bit there." Jack observed.

"It's nothing. I'm fine. I was...having a conversation."

Miko grinned. This guy was probably one of the few people ever who had a legit excuse for getting lost in mental la-la land. She still thought it was cool he just start up random talks with a cosmic entity who were notorious for their not being very chatty with lower beings. All they did was loom in the background silently overseeing the universe. Primus seemed to be the oddball out of the bunch. He enjoyed these sorts of talks and was hugely interactive, going so far as to passively possess somebody if it meant helping them. Or mind-melding or whatever the heck he was doing to talk to him. She didn't really know how that worked. Whenever she tried to ask Ratchet or Jane, neither of them ever answered. Not even Tony would spill the beans on the arrangement.

"You're free to go, Galvatron." Ratchet told him crisply. "There's no indication of soot accumulation, and your holo-form is working fine. I expect the X-Men might be growing worried about your continued absence but are too respectful to continuously ping your comm. link."

"Not yet he's not free to go." came a stern military voice.

Slag. And here his mood had actually been improving. It was some small consolation that he wasn't the only one not pleased to hear the voice of General Bryce, and even less pleased to find him standing on the hangar's threshold with Fowler. Miko's grin went to a frown in an instant, mirroring Jack's own. Ratchet, though remaining expressionless, could not hide his annoyance from his field. The mech picked up glyphs for irritation and being suddenly short of temper. One or two for impatience he also detected. He pieced two and two together at that: Ratchet must've been trying to get him out of the hangar to prevent Bryce's scolding which would only worsen the mech's mood. The last thing he needed was someone to tell him "Oh, you royally fudged up and indirectly caused the deaths of nine innocent people!" right now. Not only was such an accusation not entirely true, it also wasn't what Galvatron needed right now.

"You're very lucky that you have Director Fury and Deputy Hill vouching for you, Megatron. If not for them I'd have you sent back to Cybertron in cuffs. Not only for this but for your past crimes."

Galvatron growled dangerously: "I would advise you not fling accusations and sentences at me like a common criminal. What happened was an accident and one I admit I could have prevented if I had reacted sooner. I did not react because I wished for the fire to happen. I did not react because I was uncertain what Zemo was planning, and it was only after a vital second – a second too late – that I recognized the device in his hand as a detonator. Quake was wounded and could not react, and Williams was as puzzled as I was. At the moment I or he could have done something his digit was already half-way pressing down on the activation switch. Only a speed-gifted could have reacted that swiftly. And, like it or not General, I am _not _speed-gifted."

He rose.

"As for my past acts – I sincerely regret what I did on both our planets."

Bryce cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. "Do you?" he asked skeptically. Fowler eyed him as if warning him.

No one was expecting Ratchet to get involved in this verbal flame war. But involve himself he did. He turned from his console to glower down at the General. There was a gleam in his blue optics that was an obvious warning not to provoke him.

"Yes. He does. Because he is paying for his sins in a way you couldn't possibly imagine." snapped the medic hotly. "Now, if all you intend to do here is heckle my patient over his past – _get out._" The last two words came out in a snarl.

The General appeared shocked for a brief fraction of a second. Fowler's eyes went wide beside him. Then Bryce's cold frown returned.

"Watch your tone, medic. You're on my base and in my hangar. It's through my generosity you have a place to stay."

"With all due respect General, I don't give a damn. I will tell you only once more: _get out_. If I'd said this was a side-show for hecklers I'd have slagging well sold tickets."

"Dude, when the doc-bot tells you to GTFO, you GTFO." Miko added smugly, arms crossed.

Bryce's frown only deepened. He tensed when Megatron (he refused to fully acknowledge the change in name; a name change did not wipe clean the slate in his mind) stomped towards him, no doubt expecting to be stepped on for his insolence. Galvatron did nothing of the sort, merely walking past him out into the compound as if he weren't even there. Frankly, the General felt as if he'd been wordlessly snubbed, and while the mech hadn't even tossed him the privilege of a sideways glare he distinctly felt as if he _had _been glared at – and by a set of eyes not present in the hangar. But that was absurd. There was no one else here.

When the sense passed after a moment, he dismissed it from his mind and continued his "discussion" with Fowler off to one side.

* * *

Despite Ratchet's suggestion to head back to New York, the grey mech decided to stay on site – but to stay away from Bryce. The X-Men would comm. him if they needed him, and Ratchet could 'bridge him straight there, unlike last time. Right now, he was just waiting for someone to get back to him over whether the satellite and Cerebro upgrades were ready. He wanted to be there when they were put to use.

Silently he fumed over the encounter in the hangar. It had taken almost all of his will power just to be _civil_ to the man! It was as if Jameson had gone into military service and had learned to actually control his temper – and still be astonishingly rude. He utterly refused to acknowledge his name change, was plainly ready and willing to jail or deport him over the fire, and didn't seem to acknowledge some of the _good _he'd actually done. He could permit some of that iciness – he had threatened him in the past and probably cost his organization quite a bit of funding – but the least he could've done was use his new name. But no. He hadn't even done that.

'_Note to self: NEVER introduce that man to Jameson._' he thought dryly.

A wry chuckle echoed in his helm: '_Agreed._'

Wait, he agreed with him? Really?

'_I've no doubt Bryce is successful in his own right, but he struck me as the sort of person who does not play well with others. It was obvious to us both he is also pigheadedly stubborn. In some cases that can be a useful trait. In some cases that can be a disastrous one. It is all dependent. Some stubborn individuals accomplish things, great things even. Others do not, unable as they are to see five inches past their own noses._'

"HA! Oh, if only someone had said _that_ straight to the Council's faces..."

'_Many tried and even did so. None were successful in changing their minds. I wish they had. Perhaps the War would not have been unnecessary. So many lives lost over the_ _millenia..._' A haggard sigh. '_I do not know. Perhaps it still would have been. There are rare times change must be ushered in with blades and firearms instead of through policy. Policy then has little choice but to listen to the infuriated masses lest it be impaled or shot. I do not support the violence but I understand sometimes it is needed. Policy has a bad habit of being reversed either way. I do hope the new implemented government does not make those lives ones lost in vain._'

"Optimus won't allow that to happen."

'_Mm._'

The mech fell silent as he continued to roam. Now that he was quite a ways from the hangar he could see just how large the compound was. He'd never actually seen the place from a wider angle. The hangars all looked like copies of one another aside from bold, black letters above their entrances. Hmph. Military loved their neatness and organization. For a place renowned by humans as a conspiracy hotbed, the place certainly looked rather...plain. Compared to the towering skyscrapers of New York it was a drab sight: dully lustrous silver, grey, and white against a backdrop of burnt golden-orange and blue.

Onward he roamed.

* * *

_Four hours later..._

Evening was nearing in Nevada when Galvatron's comm. link finally pinged. It was Beast.

[Everything looks to be ready on our end, my alien associate. Forge has examined both Cerebro's upgrades and those of the Stark satellites and they all seem to be wired up correctly and in working order. Xavier is readying himself, as are Jean and Ms. Frost. Scott assumed you would like to be here when we put those two devices are put to use. We have no idea what to expect.]

"I'll be there shortly."

[We'll wait till you're here.]

Luckily he had not wandered very far from the hangar allotted to the Autobots by General Bryce. Jack and Miko were gone to he knew not where, but Fowler was there. He was fortunate the brusque liaison was inclined in his favor even now. In the past he'd have been content having his helm on a platter, squaring with the General's own opinion. Fowler, thankfully, knew how to forgive his past and a rookie but honest mistake, even if both had cost lives in the end. Everyone screwed up royally every now and again. You just had to live with the consequences, because there was no going back and altering it.

"They ready for you back in the Big Apple?" Fowler inquired, looking more than a little relived and hassled in unison.

"It would seem so. They are finishing preparations and awaiting my arrival at the Institute. Everything is in working order so Forge assures."

Ratchet snuck him a wry smile. "Knowing you and your encoded impatience I suppose you want to get going right away."

The other mech nodded. He said he'd rather not keep them waiting indefinitely. Every moment they waited, Adaryn could be put in further danger or, Primus forbid, further experimented on by Sinister, wherever the weasel was. If they found Adaryn...Sinister couldn't fail to be nearby. He was a scientist – he wouldn't let his experiment get far afield if he could help it. Ratchet agreed, and opened up a groundbridge for him right onto the Institute's underground hangar bay. Galvatron vanished into it.

After he was gone, Fowler heaved a sigh: "I just don't get why Bryce won't let his past go. He's trying _so hard_. He's trying so hard it might kill him!"

"Some people never change." grunted Ratchet simply.

* * *

The crowd gathered in the Cerebro chamber was impressive to say the least – crowded to say the most. Almost every X-Man was present, minus the children of course. They would recuperate in the high-end Avengers medical bay until they were strong enough to be moved back. Right now, they were simply too weak, in too much pain. And there they were under the care of the Avengers themselves. There, they were relatively safe. If the MRD or Purifiers attacked the Mansion they would be ripe for political scandal and scrutiny – as if they weren't under enough already.

He just had to hope Adaryn would not have to be added to one of the spare beds when they found her and brought her home.

"There he is!" Bobbie cried. "Took you long enough!"

"We thought you weren't coming after all!" added Kurt.

Before he could stop them the youths dragged him over into the crowd, to the forefront. In front of the Cerebro interface were Jean, Emma, Xavier, Forge, and Beast talking amongst themselves. Most of the conversation was positive but Forge and Beast were providing some necessary "If this goes wrong, then..." suggestions. Those were not many though, which was encouraging.

"Good." said Xavier. "Now that our honorary member is here, we can begin in earnest."

Xavier turned his wheelchair towards the interface and placed the odd helmet on his head. His eyes shut as he began to concentrate. Jean and Emma stayed near at hand, ready to assist should the expert telepath need an extra pair of minds for one reason or another. Beast and Forge remained close to the interface, eyes watching for even the tiniest hint of technical problems. Everyone else simply milled, waiting for a result or a problem to arise.

For a moment or two nothing happened as the telepath's mind reached out through Cerebro and linked with the satellites far above. It was after that initial link that Xavier's expression became one of immense strain, but he pushed through it with stubborn resolve. Ghosts of images and thoughts flickered in and out around the chamber's extent like fireflies. But none of the minds passed over knew of anything concerning Sinister's whereabouts. So Xavier kept searching, reaching into more and more minds. Even with the upgrades he was still pushing his limits far beyond what he normally did. His hands tensed over the arms of his chair as strain continued to build. Jean and Emma reacted then. He felt their hands touch his shoulders, felt their minds link to his and begin to siphon off some of the excess information.

"_Let me lend a hand, too._" he heard a voice say, a female voice with a rich Southern accent.

Another mind joined. It was less experienced but the strain lessened further. Now it was almost manageable. Still, they would all wind up with migraines of different severity after this – but nothing a little rest and a nice cup of sweet tea couldn't fix.

Onward he looked into the minds of the masses. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he got a definite reference to Sinister, and from a very unusual source pool. He saw jungles, dense jungles of heat and humidity and endless shades of green. There was a flash of black, unnatural white, and red – red from a gemstone, plain as a gunshot. There was a flicker of deep violet as well, but it was brief and much weaker. A cross, too – something definitely out of place in such a surrounding. A spear came after it, a few grey feathers fluttering around it. Claws rended the many images apart seconds later. A scream, frightened, came. He felt fear after that, fear deep and primal and unknown, and questions that were not his own filtered into his brain:

_Who are the strangers?_

_What do they want?_

_Why do they infringe on our lands?_

_Who killed our brothers and sisters?_

_What are the cries heard in the swamps? What makes them? Is it man? Is it beast?_

Then a thought:

_No one leaves the village unless in dire need. There is something out there, hunting in the jungles..._

Around the chamber the images dimmed. Xavier removed the helmet as Jean, Emma, and Rogue removed their hands. That wasn't what any of them had been expecting as an answer. It was encouraging in some ways while discouraging in others.

"Well?" asked Scott. "Where's Sinister?"

Xavier did not answer right away. He was busy massaging his aching temples. Jean, Emma, and Rogue were in only slightly better states. So no one rushed him. When he had recovered enough to speak coherently, he did:

"I detected a series of thoughts that bore a distinct reference to Mr. Essex. I have reason to think they came from members of the Fall Tribe who have noticed unusual sights and happenings around their territory recently. One in particular I believe came from either Shanna or Ka-Zar, the tribe's leaders. I'm unsure why, but they have forbidden tribe members from leaving the safety of the village until further notice. Whether that was due to Sinister's presence or some other threat entirely I could not ascertain. Considering the dangerous wildlife they are more than capable of fending off, _that_ is worrisome. Why Sinister chose to set himself up in one of the most dangerous, untamed regions on the planet I can't even begin to fathom. He's in as much risk of death there as here – maybe more."

Silence. Eyes stared. A few mouths dropped open a little ways. One could almost hear gears turning in the heads of the gathered, could hear the clicking of data points as they were connected to form an answer. One particular individual looked a little pleased on figuring it out: Wolverine. He was grinning now – a dangerous grin.

"Sinister's...in the _Savage Land?_" Amara and Bobbie demanded in near perfect sync, sounding dismayed beyond belief. No one else bar Wolverine looked in the least happy about this bit of information.

"The Savage Land?" Galvatron repeated cluelessly. He knew a good deal about the planet, but admittedly he did not know as much as the locals. This? This was new information. Judging by Xavier's words and everyone else's dismay it was not a place one would ordinarily visit. _Why _you did not visit remained to be seen, but it was curious to know the place was inhabited by what he assumed were humans – and something else: "wildlife" Xavier had said. With a name like "the Savage Land" he got the feeling that wildlife did not constitute ordinary creatures one saw elsewhere. And that Wolverine was happy to go there...that wasn't a good sign.

"Leave it to Nathaniel to pick one of the untidiest places for a hidden laboratory." Emma commented with disdain. "I can only imagine how many 'projects' he's lost to hungry wildlife if he fails to keep them on a tight leash during testing."

"Or how the wildlife has had their numbers reduced during those tests." added Beast dryly. "Not only can we arrest him on charges of kidnapping and illegal genetic experiments, we can also arrest him for disturbing a protected wildlife sanctuary."

"No use groaning and complaining about this, guys." Scott said. "If Sinister's in the Savage Land with Adaryn and some of his goons, that's where we'll go. I'll go prep the Blackbird." He turned to the mutant engineer nearby. "Forge, the stealth systems working?"

"Just checked 'em yesterday. Sound as a bell. We can land her nearby and he'll be none the wiser."

Nodding, Cyclops left the chamber in a brisk run. Seconds later, Jean, Kitty, and Rogue ran after him. Wolverine followed them out in a walk, still grinning. Galvatron frowned. He was confused at the information thus far provided to him. Some things had not been explained to him.

And that man's grin worried him.

* * *

_Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean..._

Most of the first half of the flight was near silence, Bobbie doing his best to start sporadic little conversations with the other senior X-Men and the aircraft beside the Blackbird. Topics shifted every time. It was half an effort to dispel the uneasy quiet that pervaded the air (he hated quiet) and half an effort to keep himself awake. Out of all the mutants, present and not, he loved to nap the most and was the most susceptible to jet-lag. Traveling from New York to Antarctica was a long trip, even in the speedy Blackbird – almost five hours.

"_Could someone please explain what the Savage Land even is? All I know for sure is that it is populated, far to the south on the planet's face judging by our present heading, and is a protected wildlife reserve._" Galvatron finally asked after nearly a hour and a half of silence.

"Well," began Beast. "The Savage Land _is _a protected wildlife preserve set up in the far flung past by a mysterious race we know little about but it's far from the unusual stock. Not only is it located in Antarctica, it is an artificially generated jungle. Like you said it is also populated - but like its location its inhabitants aren't what one would term 'normal'. We have allies among the native Fall Tribe, in particular the Land's Lord Ka-Zar and Shanna the She-Devil, but there are dozens of other tribes like the Cliffwalkers and the Cat People that call the Land their home. Magic and technology meld there in a similar way to Wakanda. Oh! and that's not even to mention the pre-historic wildlife we'll be encountering."

"_Pre-historic?_"

Bobbie grinned: "Y'know. Saber-tooth cats. Dinosaurs. Stuff like that."

"..._Please tell me this is some kind of absurd joke. Those creatures have been extinct for millions of years __–__ hundreds of millions even. Unless I see them for myself I am assuming you are teasing me._"

"Alright, smart guy." smiled Rogue. "Suit yourself. Just remember: on Earth, anything goes."

"You've been to two alternate dimensions and met some alien ghosts. Oh, and learned some basic combat magic from a wizard." Kitty argued.

"Doctor." Scott corrected quickly, eyes focused on the skies in front of him more than on the conversations in the jet.

Kitty ignored him, continuing: "What makes this any more impossible? You're basically a walking impossibility yourself."

Galvatron said nothing. He still refused to believe that after at least sixty-five million years or more that dinosaurs were still walking the face of the planet. There were many things about Earth that were utterly fantastic compared to the general safety and sanity of Cybertron. This, however, was _too _fantastic to be easily swallowed. It just wasn't possible. And yet...there were alien entities out there, beings even the mighty Primus made it a point to avoid or appease, and Earth seemed to attract both the good and the bad of those entities, the ordinary and the extraordinary. It was like a magnet. He wondered what it was that drew them. There were other planets to seed or experiment on, surely?

The Blackbird sliced onward through the skies.

* * *

Blue open skies and oceans were replaced with pale skies and frozen seas icebergs at last. A blizzard raged outside the safety of the Blackbird. Without Storm to part the snow and ice, as she had stayed behind to help defend the Institute with some of the other X-Men, the jet could only ram through the freezing barrier like a bull through a gate. It made for a bumpy ride. Galvatron had a slightly better time, his form more suited for such atmospheric ramming.

"_Let me take point._" he said. "_Your visibility is hindered. Mine is not._"

"Roger that." Scott answered. "Backing down."

The Blackbird slowed to let the other aircraft slide in front of it. Still, Galvatron had no idea what he was looking for.

"The Savage Land is a big source of heat." Kurt provided. "It's located above a geothermal hotspot, and its climate is regulated by advanced tech. I know your scanners aren't top-notch like they used to be, but I'm pretty sure it'll still stand out like a flare once we get in scanning range."

Both aircraft trudged through the snowy storm, focusing on their on-board scanners for the flare-up of infrared that foretold of the outer edges of the Land. It would increase after that point and remain fairly steady according to further insight from Beast. He was honestly curious as to how his Decepticons had never shown any interest in the place. Surely the Nemesis was capable of broad global scans, and Soundwave was capable of hacking surveillance satellites and the internet for points of interest?

"_When we first arrived our priority was securing stores of Energon. The Nemesis can perform a broad scan, though it is not planetary in scale. We have to be within range for it to provide accurate data. We did pass fairly close to the Antarctic Circle, but other than some strange heat anomalies which were judged as coming from natural sources we found nothing of interest. Later, admittedly, my soldiers raided a few polar research stations for parts. But we never bothered with the area as a whole._"

"Ah."

"_Perhaps it is best we didn't. Some things should not be dis – wait. I have something on scanners. Powerful source of infrared. And...oh you are kidding me._"

Through the white haze of the blizzard an unlikely sight rose. Snow gave way almost suddenly to a vista of luscious green that was very out of place against the stark whiteness that surrounded it. Palm trees and tropical flora of a staggering variety rose like pillars. Heat signatures from living creatures began popping up on his scanners like fireflies on a hot evening. The sudden influx of contradictory data nearly sent him reeling. This...there was no way this was possible, and yet there it was: a dense tropical jungle sprouting in the Antarctic, filled with life.

Scott's voice drew his attention: "Steady as she goes, Galv. Be ready. Pretty as it looks, this place'll eat you alive if you're not ready for it."

Wolverine snorted in derisive humor: "Don't bother. The Pteras'll knock us out of the sky either way. Blackbird ain't built for avoiding them, and they'll be on us the minute we head in."

"Oh, _thanks _for that little pep-talk, teach. Now would you mind zipping it so I can focus? You're not helping."

"Scott." Jean scolded.

The older man shrugged, still grinning to himself. He counted down in his head when they crossed the threshold into the hot, humid jungle. By the time he hit fifty-two an odd screaming noise could be heard from outside, and four targets blipped onto the scanners. Everyone tensed. From the west and from above came four creatures that shouldn't still be around – great scaled beasts with thin membranal wings spanning easily twenty-five feet melded to their bodies and long beaks filled with sharp teeth.

"Scott! Dive!" Kitty cried.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the short-ish chapter. xD Guh. So much been going on lately. Also: GOT MY LICENSE PEOPLE! I can now officially drive without a parent in the passenger seat. And my bestie helped figure out how to work the phone/car Bluetooth, so I can now listen to my music without the need for headphones. :D**


	41. Chapter 41: Bird of Prey

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 41**

*_Note: Took a few liberties with Ka-Zar's appearance, his powers, and Zabu. A lot of my information about the Savage Land comes from Marvel Heroes 2016, not the wiki. I only use wikis when it comes to general information like geography. Hey, this is EMH Earth, not 616 Earth, which is the "common" universe. Liberties were taken with a couple characters in EMH land anywho. :P_

* * *

"Hold on!"

Scott grabbed the controls in vice grips and forced the Blackbird into a near ninety degree nosedive towards the treeline below. Agile as the Pteras were there not nearly as durable as a massive jet of sturdy metal was. But of course the jet wasn't as agile as _they_ were. He didn't even need to look behind him to see Forge on the verge of an emotional breakdown at the sure chance of his baby getting busted up. He braced himself to yank back up on the controls to prevent an ugly crash through the canopy and into the ground. The Pteras followed the action, forcing him to rocket straight up.

He jerked his head to notice a Ptera scream and fall towards the ground for seemingly no reason. Less than a second later Galvatron shot past the Blackbird and pulled up to circle about for another go. He would've screamed at the alien that he was not only begging for trouble with international law. The Blackbird was not alive in the same way he was; it could not die. Galvatron _could_. But...he was also creating a much needed distraction that would save the Blackbird and her passengers from irreparable damage. Maybe not the smartest decision he'd ever made that concerned his well being but it was one that would pay off for his allies. Besides, he was a giant alien with a knack for swordplay and dogfights. It wasn't like he was in life-threatening danger.

Another Ptera fell, screaming.

"What do they want?!" Kitty shouted.

"Judging by their behavior towards the Blackbird and the color of their crests and wing membranes I would hazard this is a threat display meant to frighten us away from their territory!" answered Beast. "Please note that have not attacked us as yet!"

"Then why the heck are they not focusing on the _other _giant flying thingamawhat _shooting _at them?!" Bobbie demanded with heat.

Beast didn't even need to bother answering that question. Thanks to two of their number being incapacitated, the Pteras aggressively rounded on the more dangerous threat. The X-Men could only watch as their alien team mate dove for the canopy below like a mech possessed. He pulled up only after he disappeared beneath them. The Pteras followed him down to the ground. Through the blanket of green there was a flash of grey metal and reddish-brown of wing membranes.

"Scott!" Jean said. "Get us down there!"

"I'm on it!"

Once more he forced the Blackbird towards the ground. This time the angle was not as steep. His sharp, attentive eyes had caught sight of a thinning of trees close to where the mech had disappeared. It wouldn't be an ideal landing but at least it wouldn't be a crash landing like the ones usually suffered here. They'd be able to take off if nothing wrecked the jet while they were busy searching the jungles.

* * *

He could not believe what he was seeing. His entire processor was threatening to short-circuit as badly as it had in Dr. Strange's impossible Sanctum. These creatures – why, he remembered when Shockwave had taken readings of the beasts in order to reformat the Lightning Strike Coalition into the Dinobots! That had been over seventy million stellar cycles ago at the least! These beasts had vanished in a devastating event long ago and none were supposed to have survived!

And yet here they were, across from him in an equally impossible jungle in the middle of the Antarctic, screaming and squawking at him like some sort of bizarre, reptilian crows that so happened to be the size of small cars. This day could not get any stranger. He was convinced of that now. Rogue was right. On Earth, everything was allowed. Nothing was too insane. Apparently not even ancient creatures from a far flung epoch that were _supposed_ to be dead and buried!

He conjured up the Falchion and gripped it in one hand, glyphs glaring brightly. His newly-implemented fusion cannon hummed as the barrel began to glow red hot. The creatures screamed and snapped but did not draw any nearer, unsure of what to make of this new oddity before them. Their behavior was not that of hunters. If it had been they would have forced the Blackbird and her human passengers to ground to pick them off at their leisure. They were aggressive only – not interested in their own nourishment. Perhaps all they needed was a bit of bloodless aggression in return. He kept both weapons idling in case this idea of his went wrong. Unconsciously he registered the pitter-patter of light feet coming from the northeast of his position, and the X-Men could be seen through the undergrowth just behind the flying creatures. With humans here he needed to act now. If they distracted the Pteras from him they might take up the opportunity of a pack of free snacks.

Baring his own denta in a snarl, he let out a growling shout at one of his vocalizer's highest amplitude settings.

The Pteras suddenly began to act skittish. Unsure. They looked at one another as if debating what to do about the challenger. They screamed and squawked back in turns.

"SCRAM!" he boomed. Hey, if it worked on humans he had a feeling it might work on these creatures. They were obviously intimidated by him.

Whimpering almost like whipped puppies the Pteras withdrew back up into the humid skies. He gave a short, hoarse bark of a laugh.

"Cowards!" He looked down at the X-Men across from him. They were all looking at him with eyes as round as they could physically go. What, were they really that impressed by him being able to scare of a group of pre-historic creatures with just his voice? He'd scared other Cybertronians with it. Or, stay, were they looking at _him_ or...

'_Slag._'

Kurt pointed very slowly to an area behind him, yellow eyes wide. Then he disappeared up into the boughs of a tree in a puff of blue smoke. The mech whipped around to find a reptile almost as tall as he was with a massive maw filled with teeth and arms far too small to be practical to it across the clearing from him. It was colored an earthy, muddied brown-ish red. Bony protrusions poked up from the front of its head. Opening its jaws the towering reptile unleashed a thundering roar. The jungle shuddered and more of the creatures emerged from the thickly clustered trees, surrounding them. Five total. Great.

"Alright then." He brandished the Falchion. "Who's first?"

All the forces of Hell broke loose at that declaration of his. Roaring loudly enough to break the sound pollution levels of the entirety of Midtown Manhattan the towering lizards thundered towards him in a primal stampede. Two went straight for the largest target while the other three went for the X-Men. One he simply blasted, careful to keep the power low. The beast stumbled forward and fell with a crash. Under normal circumstances in a gladiatorial fight he would've left the other three targets alone until the first two were dealt with. Normally the creatures he fought were so distracted by the massive audience in the stands that they attempted to go after them. But with a squadron of earthlings with no armor that could easily be devoured whole by these towering reptiles if their defense failed, he was forced to avert his focus.

It was one of those decisions where he wouldn't know how to feel about until after he'd made it – because the result honestly could've been better, but it could've been worse, too.

He went after the three reptiles converging on the X-Men. His focus diverted from his own two targets, one clamped its jaws down onto his pauldrons with enough force to warp and even breach the metal. Instinctively he lashed out, pounding the butt of his blade into the creatures side. Flipping the Falchion and whirling while the lizard's grip was weakened, he then slammed the blade down onto the creature's head. It collapsed forward. When he turned his focus back to the humans a wide blast of red light slammed into another lizard square in its head. Screaming and blinded, it backed away. But the others were circling like a pack of wolves now, waiting for an opening. The X-Men and Galvatron watched them warily.

"Head for the trees!" Scott hollered. "Kurt! Scout ahead! See if you can find the Fall Tribe! Or the Cat People! _Anyone!_"

"On it!"

Nightcrawler vanished in another puff of smoke, disappearing into the jungle. Cyclops blasted another of the titan lizards and then turned tail himself, running into the dense undergrowth. The other present X-Men were quick to follow – all save Wolverine. Snarling like a wild animal he charged one of the lizards. When it bowed its body down to try to snap him up, the man leapt onto its snout, over its head, and down onto its upper back. His claws retracted and viciously were driven into the beast's back, a fine amount of blood spurting from the wounds. The beast screamed in agony.

"You got a sword and a gun, bub!" he shouted hoarsely. "Use it! We need to cover the others! We run, they'll just follow! If we don't take 'em out quick the Cliffwalker raptors will make things worse for us! This is their turf! I smell 'em!"

Rather than ask why raptors would bother assisting the titan lizards, he rounded on the beast Wolverine was attacking. Flipping the blade to show the fuller, the mech slammed it against the beast's head. It fell like a toppled tree, Wolverine using it to cushion his own fall before leaping off. There were only two left. Wolverine darted for one. It leaned down like its comrade to snap at him only to have an ugly series of gashes open up and begin to ooze blood. Enraged, the beast and its remaining friend round on the man in a frenzy, snapping and biting. Galvatron again slammed one of the beasts to side. He heard Wolverine's beast circle around and lunge forward. He whirled to face assist Logan...

A roar like a tiger's thundered out of the blue, and from the underbrush a sable colored feline the size of a grizzly bear leapt up onto the lizard's back and drove its long fangs into its scaly hide, claws digging in ruthlessly to tighten its grip. It pulled the lizard in one direction, manipulating its own center of balance surprisingly well, and the two fell in a heap. The fanged feline circled its prey, growling, ears back. When the larger beast tried to get up it lashed out with its claws, rupturing the hide again.

"Zabu! Enough!" a voice shouted.

The feline pulled back, still growling. Wolverine grinned, looking up into one of the trees. Galvatron followed his line of sight. Perched on a thick branch was a muscular young adult man wielding a large, vicious looking hunting knife of jagged metal. Long blonde hair cascaded past his shoulder in an unruly manner. His clothes were surprisingly modern. A black and red vest partially concealed his bare chest, and tattered blue jeans protected his legs from the abundance of jungle insects. His feet were covered in less modern but well made boots of animal hide. A necklace of teeth and bones circled his neck. Tattoos were dotted up his right arm, ones the mech did not recognize. They seemed to thrum with power.

"Took your damn time, kid!" Wolverine grumped, still grinning his toothy grin.

The newcomer scowled and leapt down from his perch. He clicked his tongue once and the bear-sized feline returned to his side.

"My scouts have already located your allies, Logan. It is not safe out here. Come. The Thunder River is not far, and the Fall Tribe village is just beyond it."

At that Parthian statement the man set off into the jungle. Growling at Logan and Galvatron as warning them to behave themselves, the saber-toothed tiger padded after him. Once he was sure their backs were turned the mech looked down at Logan for some kind of clarification. The dinosaurs that hunted in packs like wolves; the saber-toothed tiger; the strange man with the hunting knife, modern clothes, and animal skin boots. None of this was adding up to him. Wolverine finally noticed the scrutiny.

"Kid's Ka-Zar. Cat's his buddy Zabu." he grunted simply.

Galvatron glanced sharply at the man ahead of them. He remembered Beast's description of some of the X-Men's allies here, the Land's Lord Ka-Zar being one of them. This youth was the ruler of this entire region? That was impressive. But something wasn't quite adding up to him. The language here was obviously not English and yet he spoke it fluently. Was this Ka-Zar's homeland or was he an outsider who had come here at some point in the past? His appearance and speech seemed to suggest the latter as being the case. That did not explain why he had come here in the first place, however. Only a madman would come willingly to a place as dangerous as the Savage Land, and only a seasoned warrior would be able to survive it.

Wolverine appeared ready to offer a little more clarification, but it was halted when Ka-Zar stopped suddenly and drew his knife. Zabu growled. Wolverine unsheathed his claws and sniffed at the air. He too began to growl. Galvatron could smell nothing out of the ordinary but his audials were picking up noises. Rustling undergrowth, an odd series of chittering-growling sounds, and heavy, raspy breathing that definitely _wasn't _human. Ka-Zar held a hand to keep them in place. The tattoos on his arm appeared to flicker with pale amber light.

"The Land stirs." he said cryptically. "Trouble draws near. Quickly! The River!"

Ka-Zar promptly vaulted onto Zabu's back and the primal due took off again. Wolverine seemed to want to stay in place and take part in another brawl, but his reason finally won out. He sprinted after them. Galvatron took advantage of a thinning in the canopy above and flew above the jungle just enough to be able to keep Wolverine's bright yellow and black uniform and Zabu's pale gold fur in sight. Ahead of them a might river meandered through the jungle. Behind the heroes the undergrowth quivered. He just barely caught sight of a few flashes of brown-ish grey and black below, rapidly drawing nearer. Something was after them.

"Multiple targets coming in hot!" he hollered down to them. "I can distract them with blaster fire to buy you –"

"NO!" both men snapped up at him. The outbursts left him stunned.

"Those are raptors tailin' us, bub! They're dinosaur versions of scraplets! They track you down, surround you, and swarm you! Then they eat you!"

"They are also far more intelligent than the King Lizards!" Ka-Zar added. "Raptors can use coordinated strategy! And they have been behaving far more intelligently of late! Even with a shape-shifting construct and Zabu on our side we stand little chance against their numbers! We would need my warriors to attack them!"

"Construct?" Galvatron snapped angrily from above. "Do I look like a construct to you, _boy_? And do you truly doubt I can handle some silly reptiles?"

Wolverine defended the mech: "Kid, he's an alien for Pete's sake, not a mindless drone! Show a little professional courtesy, would ya?!"

They reached the river at the same time the raptors burst from the undergrowth. A quick count tallied over a dozen of them, each similarly sized to Zabu, only leaner. The one in the lead hissed, a feathered plume rising up from its head in a threat. The others mimicked it. The raptors drew towards them, chittering amongst themselves. A few of them exchanged oddly intelligent looks. Ka-Zar dismounted Zabu and drew his knife. As the man assumed a combat crouch the tattoos on his arm began to glow again. He readied to signal the tiger to attack with him. The man nearly jolted when the alien machine switched forms and dropped down, hefting the arm that bore a dangerous cannon-like device. His skin tingled as he saw the barrel glow red hot. Ka-Zar readied to charge the raptors with Zabu, but before he could even attempt to do so the hot, humid jungle air was ripped apart by a flashing of red light and sound. The alpha raptor had no chance to dodge out of the way. He and Wolverine watched as it was blasted twenty feet back and slammed against the truck of one of the Land's many giant trees, a sickening crack accompanying it just before it slumped to the ground, motionless.

"Remove the leader, scatter the pack." Galvatron said simply.

It was true enough. The raptors were now behaving with less certainty than before, chittering amongst each other as if trying to come to a decision. Galvatron did not see Ka-Zr's stunned face. Only Wolverine noticed the man's strange tattoos flicker and fade. The mech himself did not turn his focus from the raptors. The moment they reached a consensus they would be a danger again.

"We need to go. Now. Which way is your habitation?"

"To the west. The jungle is mostly cleared there, and the village is heavily fortified." Ka-Zar said grimly. He was frowning at the dead raptor.

Galvatron transformed.

"The air is safer than the ground."

Ka-Zar frowned. "Zabu and I do not fly. The air is no safer than the ground. There is also a storm on the horizon. The winds have changed."

The strange duo turned their backs on the aircraft and together jumped into the river. The raptors noticed and chittered angrily, four of them surging forward. Wolverine gave a gravelly sigh of "Damn kid..." and leapt onto the aircraft's canopy.

"Just head towards the village, bub. Don't worry about the kid. He's got the tiger. He can handle himself."

So the aircraft silently lifted into the humid jungle skies and headed to the north.

* * *

Ka-Zar's directions proved true.

The Fall Tribe village was honestly larger than the mech would've thought. For a primitive settlement that did not make use of materials like concrete, metal, and glass in construction it was surprisingly well built and heavily fortified. Sentries armed with longbows were perched on towers around the circular walls. The weapons were trained on him but no archer loosed a shot. They seemed to recognize the "X" and "A" on his side as meaning "friend." He was even happier to pick up vaguely familiar life signs below in one of the larger buildings, one which was outputting some peculiar energy. He had to assume that was Jean. Ice-Man's head popped out of the entrance and a hand happily waved up at him.

"Hey guys! Galv and Mr. Logan are here!" he called.

At that the building disgorged almost all of its occupants. Lots of men and women. Logan did a quick head count. Bobbie, Kitty, Amara, Hank, Jean, Scott, Rogue, Kurt, and Forge. Yep. Counting him that was everyone. There were some Fall villagers with them. One he recognized as Ka-Zar's adviser Elder Bravik. Another was a hunter named Maht. One of the women, a blond-haired young lady in a leopard skin sleeveless blouse, ripped shorts, and a bone necklace to match Ka-Zar's was none other than Shanna the She-Devil. But one man in the group took Logan by surprise. A big man, muscular, and with green hair.

"Sampson?" he exclaimed. "What the hell're you doin' here?"

Doc Sampson grinned as Logan leapt off even before Galvatron had landed.

"What else? To study. Ka-Zar called me in about a week ago to see if I could find a cure for poor Karl's condition. I am a bit of an expert in genetics modified by unknown energies thanks to my time in the Cube. Would be easier if the whole village wasn't on edge day in and day out. I've offered to go out and look for the problem but Ka-Zar was firm. No one leaves. They already lost five hunters and three scouts. And Shanna tells me the wildlife isn't to blame."

"Then what is?" Galvatron asked. "What might be out there that is picking off these people? We suspect Sinister is involved somehow. But something tells me he is not the one responsible for these attacks. He's too egotistical to resort to grunt work."

"No." agreed Elder Bravik. "It is not the Pale Demon. It is something else. Something he created."

Galvatron said nothing. A cold, vague fear began rising in his spark. The images he'd seen on the Cerebro screens, the cross, the claw slashes, the grey feather...

"We have been conferring with your allies, star-walker." Ka-Zar stated. "One of the Cat People recently managed to find a hidden facility on Naghen Island in the Gorahn Sea, or at least the entrance. One of their more water-oriented members stumbled across it. I thought it might be one of Sauron's old labs. He has a few dotted around the Land. Judging by what the X-Men have told us it must belong to Sinister. We would have raided it but my people are under orders not to leave unless it is to hunt or gather. I will not loose anyone else."

Shanna laid a hand on his arm. "You won't. The X-Men are here to help. Along with their...ah...talking...jet?" She eyed the machine oddly. "Beast, did Forge upgrade the Blackbird and not tell us?"

"Cybertronian." Galvatron corrected before Forge could get a word in. "This is just a disguise. The Blackbird is in one of the clearings to the south as far as I'm aware."

"Oh!" The woman blinked. "You're one of the aliens then. We actually have one here but he looks nothing like you and he sticks to himself on Mount Flavius. Bit of a hermit. No one's ever gotten his name. He's never given any of the peoples here any trouble so no one's had a reason."

Much as he wanted to ask who the other mech was Galvatron restrained the urge. Time was wasting. They needed to get over to the Sea. From the air earlier he'd seen the shimmer of water in the distance. That must have been it. The Thunder River probably connected to it.

Jean turned to the two rulers: "Ka-Zar, Shanna – grab your gear and meet at the Blackbird. Flying is at least marginally safer than walking."

Ka-Zar nodded and said it would be done.

"Doc, can you stay here with Bravik and keep an eye on the village with Galv?"

"What?!" Galvatron snapped. "You expect me to sit here idly while Sinister turns innocent people and creatures into mindless attack drones?!"

"Galv, it's not personal. We'd love to have you along, really." Amara argued. "But two jets is more likely to grab some nasty's attention than just one. That, and Ka-Zar isn't willing to trust you out there after you killed that raptor. There's a balance here that has to be preserved. He says you disrupted that balance. He's...basically putting you under house arrest till we're done here."

If he'd been in bipedal mode the mech would've winced. As it was the girl's words – Ka-Zar's words – still stung him on the raw. He hadn't realized. He'd simply been trying to protect his allies from dangerous creatures that could very well have been manipulated by Sinister telepathically. He'd reacted instinctively, and he had overreacted in Ka-Zar's eyes. What was he supposed to have done? He hadn't been ready to let the raptors swarm Logan, Ka-Zar, and Zabu and rip them to pieces to be consumed.

"Very well." he grumbled. "I'll stay. But swear to me you will find Sinister and Stryker and make them regret they ever attacked a mutant."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Bobbie grinned. "Poor suckers won't stand a chance."

Scott rallied the mutants: "X-Men, move out."

* * *

_Later..._

Gorahn Lake glittered pristine blue as the Blackbird drew near. Out of those present, only Zabu appeared one hundred percent unhappy about flying. The tiger was towards the rear of the jet growling and acting wobbly as if airsick. Shanna and Beast were doing their best to keep the cat upright. Whether or not he'd get sick before they landed – well, that was anyone's guess. Hopefully the poor tiger could last another minute or so. Forge would prefer it if saber-tooth tiger barf didn't disfigure his beloved jet.

At the front of the jet, next to the pilot's seat occupied by Scott, Ka-Zar stood peering out the windshield at the Land below. The jungle receded to reveal beautiful sandy shorelines that ringed the entire Sea. Poking out the water in the distance like a rocky spine was Naghen Island. But Ka-Zar was not focused on the island. He was focused on the shoreline. He jolted a little when Kurt appeared dangling from a grab handle above by his tail.

"Who're we looking for?"

"One of the Cat People, as I mentioned earlier if you had been paying attention."

"He knows that, kid." Logan growled. "He's askin' who. As in which one. Tigra? Gringar? Minx?"

"A young hunter named Ferolos. Recently transformed. Nineteen years of age. He resembles a modern day ocelot. He is _supposed_ to be waiting on the southwest shore for retrieval but Tigra warned me he has a habit of...wandering off."

Rouge shouted: "There! Down there! I think that's him!"

Indeed, standing on the shores and waving up at them with a big smile was a bipedal humanoid covered in golden fur speckled with darker browns and blacks. Short brown hair topped his head. He wore no clothes aside from some cargo pants and some decorative jewelry. Scott lowered the Blackbird down and opened the hatch. Ferolos gave a surprised yip when Jean levitated him up. The Cat glanced around in wonder, taking in the jet's interior and her colorful crew with the wide, fascinated hazel eyes of a giant kitten.

"My apologies for being blunt, Ferolos, but where exactly did you see this hidden facility?" Beast asked.

Ferolos seemed a bit surprised: "Oh! Head for the Island and I'll lead you right to it!"

* * *

"Mutates...Why'd it _have _to be mutates?" Rogue deadpanned. "Those things are just _wrong_."

"Wrong and _gross_." Kitty agreed. She stuck her tongue out in disgust.

Ferolos had kept his word and had led them unerringly to the hidden facility. What he'd neglected to mention beforehand were the guards. A dozen of the short, scaly, amphibian creatures stood vigil outside with spears. Jean had run a telepathic sweep and revealed more on the inside. And so at present they were hunched in the undergrowth waiting to strike. Everyone looked to Scott and Logan. A telepathic conversation ensued. Plans were arranged. Heads nodded in confirmation.

Snarling, Zabu, Ka-Zar, Shanna, and Wolverine leapt out of the undergrowth. The mutates spun on hearing them. Each threw their spears. Adamantium claws flashed in the sunlight, and three were slashed in half. Ka-Zar and Shanna's knives knocked two more spears off course. Zabu tackled one of the mutates to the ground as another jumped onto his back. The cat was saved talons in his back when a shot from Cyclops knocked it clean off. Jean levitated three of the creatures into the air and flung them out towards the water. Kitty phased up out of the ground, roundhouse kicking it to the ground. When the other mutates began spitting their toxins the vile stuff simply passed right through her.

"Play time's over, boys." Kitty warned. "Amara! Turn up the heat! This entire place is volcanic! Let 'er rip!"

Amara pointed her palms to the ground and focused, straining to tap into the molten rock beneath her. Fissures soon yawned open, magma bubbling within them. The girl then wrenched her hands up and the stuff followed her movements. The magma erupted out and up, raining down with semi-molten rocks. Bobbie flash froze two that tried to make a break for it. The remaining mutates scattered into the facility to escape the super heated deluge. Amara absorbed some of the magma before closing the fissures. Thanks to her last jaunt here a few years ago she knew better than to leave volcanic fissures open in a place like this.

"Everyone inside!" Jean cried. "Come on! Logan, Shanna, you and Zabu guard to entrance! If you can, circle around and seal any hidden exit tunnels!"

"Got it!" Shanna answered.

* * *

Following the stench of the mutates was easy for Ferolos. They reeked of the swamps. Finding Sinister, Adaryn, and possibly Stryker through said stench was another story. He kind of wished

"Keep slow." Ka-Zar growled. "Something is wrong about this place."

"Gee, you think?" Bobbie deadpanned. "Even I can know an evil lair when I see it. Sinister oughta get some refurbishing done."

They kept going. Jean tried to reach out to scan for familiar mind prints. She could sense mutates. There was something else though. It was a mind print, but not one she was familiar with. When she tried to reach into it for more information it shoved back and invaded her own mind. She gasped and froze as the same scream she'd heard through the Professor echoed in her mind. Grey feathers fluttered to the ground, and a great hulking shadow rose to take the form of a tall man in black hooded robes, skeletal wings arching from his back. Two glowing purple dots burned through the shadows that concealed his face. She stumbled as she severed the connection in a hurry.

"Jean!" Scott caught her before she could fall. "You okay?"

She hissed as the last dregs of psychic energy faded.

"There's something in here. I don't what it is but...I think it's working with Sinister."

"What was it?" Rogue demanded.

Ferolos sniffed. Not only did he smell her fear pheromones, he was picking up another scent. He hissed.

"I don't know." Jean sounded strained and nervy. "It looked human but I don't think it was. There were grey feathers too – like from Adaryn's wings. I heard a scream. It was terrified. Scott, I think they've done something to her."

"Ah. Miss Grey. Always the puzzle solver." purred a male voice.

From around a bend in the hall a tall, pale-skinned man in black and red robes and cape appeared, the red gem on his forehead glittering.

"Sinister!" Rouge snarled. "Give us the girl! She ain't your pet lab rat!"

Sinister chuckled darkly. Bobbie noticed something was wrong with his shadow. It appeared way darker than it was supposed to. His eyes were not longer red but violet. Ferolos was still hissing, his tail puffed up aggressively. Yowling, he leapt at Sinister. The man raised a hand and calmly swatted him aside. The Cat hit the wall with enough force to dent the metal. He slumped to the ground, a rivulet of blood tricking from his open mouth. Scott tried to blast him; Sinister merely held a hand up and deflected the energy to blast Amara and Rogue to the ground. He gave a crooked smile. Such power he'd been given! Destroying the X-Men would be child's play! Oh, but he had to savor this victory.

"Come, my Harpy. Show the X-Men their task is a fool's errand."

Beast picked up a rustling of feathers and a clicking of talons. Suspicion gave wave to full-fledged horror when he saw the source appear from behind the same corner Sinister had come from. He wasn't the only one to gasp.

It was a being, definitely female, covered in ragged grey feathers. It was about five foot ten inches in height. Wings with the same ragged grey feathers protruded from the figure's back. Feet had been replaced with bird-like talons. Its mouth opened and an ear-splitting scream came from it.

"Kill them." Sinister ordered.

The Harpy lunged.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know Harpy is a Hulk villain (she's a gamma creature in standard Marvel lore) but since she never even made an appearance or was mentioned in EMH so I'm allowed lee-way name wise. Consider this an au origin story for her.**

**Also, I had a really hard time finding concrete lore on the Cat People. Only names I found were the two originals, Tigra, and Gringar. So Ferolos is one I made up. His name is a mismatch of the words "Feral" and "Ocelot" - hence, "Ferolos."**


	42. Chapter 42: Never Anger a Phoenix

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 42**

_*Gonna add a bit of mythos to the Cat People seeing as there is virtually nothing on them on the Marvel wiki. Hey, creative license. I'll explain a more on it next chapter though._

_*Long chapter to keep you guys busy for a bit. I'm hella busy myself _–_ and as of 10/14/2016 my laptop is in the shop again, this time for a malfunctioning screen. So updates will be slow (slower) since I'm using the family desktop again, and I have to share it. :/_

* * *

Sinister watched in acute pleasure as pure chaos descended upon the corridor. His Harpy screamed, lunged, and slashed in a mindless fury at the X-Men and the savages. Suits were torn. Skin was breached. He assisted, attacking their minds with nightmarish imagery. He could feel Jean trying to protect them but all it took with his newfound strength was a push, and her barriers collapsed. The men staggered and the women issued shrieks. Ka-Zar and Wolverine were the only ones who managed to not fully perform either act. He had to admire their force of will – even if struggling was an entirely fruitless effort. And to his satisfaction (and just as he had suspected) none of the mutants dared injure someone they had once known, no matter if she was entirely under the thumb of another and did not recognize them in any way. His mysterious benefactor had seen to that. His human lab rat was no more. In her place was something stronger, faster, and without sympathy. He had to admit that, while the aesthetics could use improvement, the end result was to his liking.

"You stand no chance against me, X-Men." he taunted. "Every moment you stay brings you closer to your own deaths."

"Let her go!" Logan snapped, dodging the Harpy's talons. "She doesn't belong to you!"

He sent out another wave of psychic attacks as he said: "Oh, you're quite right. She's not mine anymore, Wolverine. The girl belongs to another now. Someone with power beyond your primitive comprehension."

The Harpy's talons connected with Beast's blur fur, clawing out thick, ragged tufts of it. A knife shot by, slicing the Harpy's grey feathers and impaling into her wing. She removed herself with a scream and went after the one who'd thrown it: Ka-Zar. The man barely had time to lift his other knife in defense before she was on top of him, rending the skin of his arm apart. Blood began to sheathe his arm. The knife was embedded into her at the same time Amara heaved a glob of molten rock at her. Claws bared, Wolverine issued a primal snarl of warning. The Harpy staggered back but stayed near, hissing. The knife loosed and dropped to the floor, blood-stained. Only now that she wasn't moving around constantly could the mutants see clearly another aspect of her alteration: her eyes. Once vibrant aquamarine blue, they were now a dark violet.

"Jean! Get through to her!" Scott barked without turning his gaze away from the thing that had once been a young Scots girl. With Sinister attacking his very psyche, that was harder than it sounded. Even as he said that another nightmarish flash assaulted him. The hand on his visor faltered and, turning to strike something that was not there, he wound up blasting Shadowcat by accident. Kitty phased just in the nick of time to avoid it.

"Watch it, Summers!" Kitty snapped.

"Sorry!"

Jean made an attempt during a second-long lull in Sinister's attacks, reaching out to the Harpy's feral mind. The same flash of shadow and violet attacked her, forcing her awareness back. She tried a second time and the push was even stronger, strong enough to win the war and implant even more nightmarish imagery into her consciousness. The presence was familiar to her, and in a bad way. She'd seen those colors before...but that wasn't possible. The entity was supposed to be comatose.

"I can't!" Jean said weakly. "Scott, I can't! There's something in here! It's blocking me out! I can't get in! Whatever it is, it's stronger than than me – it feels like it might be even stronger than the Phoenix!"

"Stronger than the Phoenix Force?" Kurt cried. "Are you kidding me?!" He yelped and teleported when the Harpy lashed out at him, reappearing clinging to the ceiling like a fuzzy blue spider. "That thing is _sehr kraftvoll_! What are we even dealing with?!"

Sinister clapped slowly, sarcastically. "Very good, Ms. Grey. You've stated the obvious. Try on if you feel you must, but you will never reach her. If you _do _manage to break through to her mind I will be quite surprised."

"Stop hidin' behind your damned telepathy and fight, coward!" Logan snapped.

"Don't insult me, Wolverine." Sinister frowned. "I am above such crass behavior. You never did manage to grasp such a concept as refinement. Does a wild dog know not to engage the man armed with a cannon?"

Sinister grunted as something impacted him from behind, feeling like a booted foot. He staggered and whirled around to see Shadowcat. His back now turned from the majority of the X-Men, Ka-Zar leapt and impaled his knife's jagged head into his back, the hilt being yanked free as the man moved out of reach. A wash of bitter cold enveloped the hallway and soon he felt a weight on his back that was added to the knife's own. It took minimal guesswork to conclude that that blasted Drake boy had sealed the weapon's head in place with a sheathe of ice. Improved as his powers were, he was not polydextrous like McCoy nor a skilled contortionist nor did he possess telekinesis like Ms. Grey. His vision began to blur. His concentration faltered. His heartbeat became erratic. This was not hypothermia – it was poison.

'_Deal with them._' he ordered. '_I will send another of my experiments to assist. I have no immunity to this particular toxin. I must concoct anti-venom._'

'_Very well, Essex._' the voice of his benefactor replied. '_I will endeavor to ignore your impertinent suggestion that I require assistance to slay a band of fleshlings. I expect you to not be so presumptuous a second time._'

And so Sinister staggered off deeper into his labyrinthine lab, the walls around him melting and blurring, his limbs experiencing confounding delays. Neurotoxin of some variety. It was miraculous he wasn't dead or unconscious yet. Savage Land toxins were the most potent on the face of the planet. A healing factor no matter how powerful could never completely stave them off.

Before he could get a dozen paces he felt himself attacked once more from behind, triplets of cold metal embedding into his flesh. The villain gave a howl of pain. His vision was now less cloudy. He noted curiously the eyes of the man who attacked him were wide and glazed. Those were marks of one who was suffering from psychic hallucinations. He was not responsible for that. Intriguing. Had the Harpy done that?

"Logan, no!" Beast barked. "Opening wounds will allow his blood to dilute! The toxins will be to no effect!"

"And here you prove my point." said Sinister haughtily. "By letting your animalistic nature control you, you have shifted the odds back in my favor."

The villain spun swiftly and grabbed Logan before he could pull away. He flung the mutant against the wall and, just as with Ferolos, the sheer strength behind it caused the wall to buckle from the force. But Logan was far too durable to slip under as the Cat had. He rose back to his feet. He didn't like, but letting Sinister go was the sensible option. Shanna's poisonous cocktail that Ka-Zar's knife was coated in would slow the man down, buy them time to subdue the Harpy and get out. Barely a few minutes had gone by and they were already down two fighters – Ferolos had yet to rise and Ka-Zar could barely stand owing to his own wounds.

"Take that..._thing _down." Ka-Zar hissed through clenched teeth. "I fear the one you came to rescue is no more. A wild animal has replaced it."

Amara yelped when the Harpy surged at her, talons swiping in a blur. Her yelp became a cry when the talons tore clean through the fabric of her suit's arm and torso. It then went after Ka-Zar. He threw the useless knife hilt on the ground and drew another knife from his hip.

"No! Don't hurt her!" Rogue cried. "She's still in there somewhere! She just can't help it!"

The dark grey metal swung outward in an arc and ripped open a gash in the Harpy's wing and chest. It screamed and hissed in pain and counter-attacked viciously. Ka-Zar fell.

Sinister laughed darkly. "Your optimism is admirable, young lady. But come the end it is foolish. Hope is nothing but an illusion to conceal the inevitable. It has no substantial value. Every fire must fade once its fuel has depleted. It is a basic law of physics that entropy will eventually cause the end of a dynamic energy system."

One could almost hear something in the hallway snap, like the crackle of wood in a great hearth but a hundred times louder. Scott turned instinctively to Jean and saw her eyes had become pits of fire, and great arcs of flame were extending out from her back to form a pair of wings. The other X-Men took notice, too. He uttered a curse under his breath and shouted "GET DOWN!" just as a firestorm erupted from Jean's body, consuming it entirely. Frost enveloped Ice-Man and anyone else standing too near to her. Scalding flames raced down the corridor and enveloped Sinister, his howl echoing. The hellstorm only lasted roughly fifteen seconds – to the X-Men it felt like it would never end. By the time it died down, however, the entire corridor was scorched black with cosmic soot, and Sinister was nowhere to be seen. The Harpy lay still, grey feathers singed and some still smoldering.

Heads to the ground, no one saw Jean collapse. But Logan and Beast heard it.

* * *

Blue eyes fluttered open weakly. For a brief few seconds, she was herself again. She had no lust for blood or destruction or pain. Really, she just wanted to get out of this bloody jungle lab and go home.

Why the hell did everything hurt though? What the hell had just happened? Why did the whole area smell like someone had gone bonkers with a flamethrower?

The pain forced her under again.

* * *

There was no sound or movement in the corridor for a minute or two. Smoke rose in tendrils from the prone feathered body nearby and from the walls and floor.

"Is everyone alright?" Kurt asked, puffing back into existence. Kitty peeped out of the wall she'd dived into.

"Sound off if you're conscious." Beast requested. His own blue fur was singed.

A chorus of names ensued. Jean did answer. Scott shot to his feet in an instant and raced over to the spot where she lay senseless, smoke rising from her body. Her suit and hair were singed from the cosmic fire.

"Is she okay?" Rogue demanded.

"I got a pulse." Scott affirmed. "Weak but it's there." He sighed. "The Phoenix needs to learn to be careful. She's not invulnerable. The fire can still hurt her even though it's bonded to her. Luckily it only got her suit this time."

Logan rose. Ka-Zar was busy trying to revive Ferolos, tattoos glowing. Miraculously, his own skin was healing as if he had a weak healing factor. The Cat was helped to his own feet, his arm hanging limply by his side.

"What makes you think Jean didn't just vaporize him?" Bobbie deadpanned as he got to his feet. His suit was soaked as if he'd been dipped in the Sea, Jean's fire having melted his icy armor. "No way that jerk managed to survive that."

"He's survived worse. He has complete control over ever cell in his body in addition to his other abilities." Beast reminded him grimly. "Ferolos, Logan – can you track him?"

The two trackers sniffed at the air only to cough from the acrid smell in the air.

"Too much smoke." Ferolos informed him, tail twitching.

Wolverine shook his head. "No use, Hank. If Sinister's still alive we'd have no way of getting a hit through the smoke. It's drowning out everything. If we get out of it we might be able to. Three to one Essex hightailed it to his main lab further in. Knowing him he's got even more surprises there just waitin' for us."

"...What about her?" Kitty asked, pointing to the other prone figure on the ground. Sinister and whoever was here with him were the targets, but it was wrong to leave a one-time ally behind just because they'd lost their senses. Adaryn hadn't done anything wrong. Sinister had turned her into this.

"Kurt, Ka-Zar, Kitty, Beast, stay with her and Jean." Scott ordered. "Everyone else – we have a lab to bust."

The selected X-Men stayed behind in the hall as their allies rushed ahead.

* * *

Further in, the acrid smell of smoke cleared. Scents wafted into the noses of the trackers. In spite of his broken arm, Ferolos forged ahead with true feline stubbornness. Sinister's was there, but it was hours old in contrast to the others they detected. One in particular made Wolverine growl. He'd smelled it before on Purifier thugs: Stryker.

"Kid? Stryker's here, too."

Scott merely nodded grimly. Sinister working with the Purifiers had told that the two were in cahoots, and the cross Xavier had seen in someone's memory indicated a religion was somehow involved in the Land's troubles. He honestly hadn't thought they'd find him here though. The Savage Land was an odd place to be commanding his religious zealots from. From all indications there were no Purifiers in the region.

"Who's Stryker?" Ferolos asked.

Amara eyed him sideways. "Trust me. You'll know him when you hear him."

Ferolos looked confused but did not press the question further. He merely refocused his senses from smell to hearing. Maybe she hadn't intended it as such, but it was sound advice either way. Tigra always said if you could the hear the enemy before you ever met them, half the battle was already won. It wasn't much of a leap to think this Stryker person would be near at hand to Sinister.

"This way." grunted Logan.

He led them down another corridor. Rogue, for reasons that confounded her for the time being, suddenly felt abundant wariness assault her. She was far from being a true pessimist like Mr. Logan but she was perceptive enough to pick up on things, sensations, that no one else might. As someone who had to be careful with whatever she did and aware of whoever was near her, she had to be. She'd been led into enough traps in her life to be able to sense one through sheer gut intuition. But there was no sign of a trap anywhere, and neither Ferolos nor Logan were reporting incoming targets.

So why was she feeling this, this sense of being led into the barrel of a fully loaded gun...and the feeling that gun could go off at any second? Stryker wasn't a threat, and Sinister always tried to avoid a brawl.

Ahead of them, Wolverine growled from the back of his throat. The very tips of his claws peeped out from his knuckles but did not breach the fabric that covered his hands. No one thought of anything of it. Noises like that were common enough with him. If anyone had been able to peer past the mask, they would've seen sweat breaking out on his forehead – not from fear, but from exertion.

'_Yes, that's right. Lead them on..._' Sinister's voice purred from within his mind. '_I'll let my newest creation deal with you. Then I'll kill the rest of your allies at my leisure..._'

Even with his decades of training the man couldn't block out his voice. He did as told, every part of his body screaming at him to not obey. Where Sinister was leading them he didn't know. Couldn't be any place good if history was any help.

Wordlessly he led them down another hall. A scent wafted into his nostrils. For a moment he thought Sinister was toying with his senses, but senses were automatic. A telepath couldn't weaken or strengthen them. There was another scent nearby, human, and it belonged to neither of the two targets they were after. He slowed and nearer an intersection of halls, aiming to round a corner and head down one of them per Sinister's instructions...

"WOLVERINE! LOOK OUT!" cried Ferolos.

"HAAAA!"

The Cat shoved dove and forced him out of the way, both men landing in a heap as a streak of black leather and shining grey metal missed them by a hair. It landed, snarling like a wild animal. But what it was startled the mutants: a girl, barely seventeen years old, with long dark brown hair and steely grey eyes. She wore a simply made but effective suit of black leather looking like it more fit on a biker than on a teen.

And protruding out of her hands and feet were two claws of shining grey metal that mirrored Wolveirne's own.

* * *

'_Kill them._'

The voice made her flinch. She hated that voice and always would. She tried to push back, but Sinister's mind became an all-encompassing tidal wave, drowning her own awareness out with hardly any effort. Her personal thoughts went as blank as a piece of printer paper. Sinister made her turn to face the X-Men.

'_Kill them_.'

She sniffed at the air and her face contorted into a snarl as the trigger scent wafted in through the vents. Her steel grey eyes hardened and her heart began beating faster, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Then they looked at the knife held a mere foot away from her. The infinitesimal speck of awareness that he hadn't managed to override weakly shoved back at his control. Sinister seemed surprised at this display of free will – and then promptly crushed it in the same way an ant was crushed beneath a boot. Her mind went truly blank.

'_Kill them._'

She obeyed. She howled and lunged at the older man in black and yellow. She dodged to the side when a blast of red light streaked towards her, the beam singeing her upper arm, cutting through the leather and burning the skin beneath. She hissed as the burns healed. Her eyes jerked towards the firer.

"We're not lookin' for a fight with you, kid!" the man with the visor entreated. "Just let us by!"

"Scott, I'm really doubtin' she cares!" said a woman with white-accented brown hair, her voice a rich Southern drawl. "She's another of Sinister's experiments! Bettin' he's hardwired her into an obedient puppet somehow, just like with Adaryn!"

Her words proved true. The clawed teen lunged again without a word in edgewise. Rogue slipped out of the way in time to whirl around and latch onto her arm, holding her steady. She did not take kindly to being held still. She didn't want to, but she removed one of her gloves...and was kneed in the chest before her hand could touch her. The teen spun her foot into her head in a roundhouse. Rogue staggered back and Logan dove to to intercept the teen's claws before they could impale her, the extensions meeting with his own in a clash of grey. Snarls bubbled from both combatants.

"Stand. Down!" he snapped.

The girl's answer was to to shove forward and slash at him. Her eyes were as blank as the claws protruding from her hands and feet. Nothing.

"Logan, if she's been conditioned there will have to be a command phrase or some means of controlling her should Sinister lose his telepathic grip!" Beast advised. "A-A smell, a word, a sound – _something!_"

Logan sniffed. His answer came instantly: "Drake! The vents!"

The teen then charged him, hand claws impaling his left shoulder while her clawed feet opened a gash in his face. Scott blasted her back before she could do any more damage. Ka-Zar zigzagged towards her and rended open a wound in the girl's arm. The poison on it was weaker than what he had used on Sinister, but it would be enough to slow her down. Bobbie raised his hands and fired a stream of ice at the air circulation vents. One by one the vents in the immediate vicinity of the fight were coated in it. Not even waiting for further orders, Ice-Man raced down the hall and continued on his freezing spree. He knew through working with Mr. Logan that super-human senses had a range on them; the further away, the fainter the smell. If the weird Wolverine girl couldn't smell whatever was coming in through the vents, maybe she'd calm down enough that they could reason with her. He returned once he was done to find the X-Men encircling the Wolverine girl. She still didn't look eager to talk, face contorted into a snarl. Amara readied to open another fissure.

"No!" Scott barked. "You could bring the whole place down, Magma!"

Amara sealed the fissure. Ferolos dove to the side to avoid the strange girl's metal claws. She still managed to strike his limp arm. The Cat hissed.

"Please. We don't want to hurt you. Let us by and we can help you." Rogue pleaded.

The teen's answer was to come at her like a cat possessed. Rogue made to dodge again but didn't need to, as Amara flung a glob of molten earth and metal that struck the teen like a cannonball. The mimic took her chance, reaching out to the staggered teen and grabbing her hand. A powerful tingling jolt raced up and down her body. The other girl let out a started, slightly pained noise and crumpled like a rag doll. Bobbie quickly pinned her limbs in place with shackles of ice. Rogue's reaction was far worse. She cried out in agony and stumbled back, Beast keeping her from falling. Her whole body was shaking. Claws began to creep out from her hands and pierced through her own boots.

"I-I'm fine." she assured, forcing the claws back in.

"The day I buy that excuse from you is the day I buy in to Purifier propaganda." Beast snorted. "You're not fine, young lady."

"I'm _fine._" she insisted. "Wolverine's powers always take me by surprise. They're harder to control. Takes some getting used to. I'm fine."

Beast and the others were forced to give in to her assertions. He personally did not believe it was the powers that had caught Rogue off guard. She had borrowed from Logan enough times for her body and mind to acclimate. He suspected the girl's memories had.

"Sinister?" Amara asked, glancing between Ferolos and Wolverine.

"Don't trust me no more." Wolverine growled. "Sinister's playin' me like an instrument. Ferolos, Rogue. You're on point now. It's too risky for me to go with you. I'll get the girl, meet up with the others."

"Be careful, Logan." Scott said. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"You'd better. And have Sinister and Stryker in cuffs right behind you. Otherwise you all're getting failing grades in Field Operations."

"Aw, what?!" Drake whined. "Y-You can't do that! Mr. McCoy, he can't do that! This is a rescue mission! This isn't classwork!"

"I can, I will, and you're gonna deal with it, Drake. Now get movin'."

Wolverine carefully extricated his power mimic and headed down the hall, her limp form in his arms. Back turned, no one saw the strained, wrathful expression on his face. This was exactly what Sinister wanted him to do: guide two living weapons to remove the other X-Men.

* * *

Sinister was hunched over in his main laboratory, hissing through his teeth as his skin repair itself. The toxins from the wild man's knife rendered his cells weak, unable to mend themselves as fast as they normally did. Stryker tended to some of the burns, frowning deeply.

"Any woman that can command hell-fire should not be walking around in this world, Essex."

"It's cosmic energy, not hell-fire. If it had been we would have been dealing with a Ghost Rider, Magik, or the Hellstrom boy." Sinister clarified short-temperately. He appreciated the man's Purifier army and his access to A.I.M technology but he did not appreciate his zealous religious views. Religion had stood in the way of science for centuries, crippling its progress. "The Phoenix Force is a cosmic entity of great power, conceived during the creation of our universe. If you had read into the historical accounts of it I generously provided you would know that."

Stryker's frown merely deepened. He had no desire to be working with a mutant, but Sinister held views about the mutant race that ran parallel to his own. Weaker mutants would not survive the onslaught of Purifiers, Sentinels, and MRD officers that were being assembled to this moment to attack the mutant stronghold of Genosha. And if the strong did not stand down or join them, they would die as well. Force alone would keep these aberrations of nature in check.

"...Are you positive it's safe here?"

Sinister gave a haughty laugh. This human was utterly naive. He almost felt bad for him – almost. Experiment Twenty-Three had been trained rigorously from birth by Weapon X to be a killer, and with Wolverine's genetic coding it was also a shock element. Knowing them, the X-Men might feel pity for it. And that would be their undoing. Experiment Twenty-Three felt nothing in the way of emotion. Of course, the Rogue girl was an unstable variable...he had not been able to test whether or not Twenty-Three could manage to resist her mirror touch. He'd seen it render unconscious Juggernaut and Wolverine before now. But he had a contingency in place should the clone fall.

Mere seconds later the sealed metal door began to glow red hot as if its center had been dipped in a forge. It soon began to melt like hot butter until the whole door simply became a pile of molten metal that crept towards the two men within like a slow, oncoming tide. Beyond it stood a group of X-Men: Magma, Nightcrawler, Cyclops, Rogue, Ice-Man, and Beast. With them stood a bipedal feline, one arm hanging limply and covered in scratches. The other bore many similar wounds.

"Knock, knock." Magma joked.

"Room service!" Ice-Man quipped.

Stryker whipped out a pistol. Cyclops was having none of it. He blasted the weapon out of his hand with such ease one might've thought the act was as easy as blinking.

"I am _not _in the mood for guns, Stryker." he warned. "On your knees and hands where I can see 'em. Now. Same for you, Sinister. No tricks, either of you."

The Reverend did as told. To their astonishment, Sinister also complied. But the pale-skinned man was smiling in an unnerving way as he folded his hands behind his head. Beast approached with a pair of simple handcuffs for the former and a pair of power-dampening ones for the latter. Two clamps resonated. Cyclops told him to check the computers and other equipment for evidence. Beast nodded and set to work.

"What're you grinnin' about?" Rogue demanded. "It's over. You're in cuffs; can't use your powers. All we gotta do is drag your rear end over to the Fall Tribe and let them decide what to do with you till S.H.I.E.L.D agents arrive to cart you off."

"Yeah!" Bobbie agreed. "We win. You lose."

Sinister maintained his eerie smile. "_I_ may be powerless. But _you_ are not..."

"Like I'm attackin' my own team." Rogue deadpanned. "Nice try."

"Oh, but you will. All because of one word: _Evito_."

Rogue's reaction was instantaneous. She screamed, stumbled backwards, and put her hands to her head. Her borrowed, bony claws unsheathed as her face contorted with pain. Images flashed in her mind, memories that weren't her own. A blank room. Needles. Grim faces in doctor's masks, the Word endlessly repeated. A red haze soon clouded her mind. Her gaze focused on Stryker for reasons no one immediately understood. Sinister's grin, however, remained, and it darkened in the span of a second.

* * *

_A minute or so earlier..._

Wolverine had made his way in the direction of the others, just as Sinister had instructed. He put the copy down, pleased to note Jean was conscious now – and doing the exact opposite to what she should be doing: using the Phoenix's power to slowly mend some of her friends' wounds and patch up the grey-feathered killing machine that had once been a human being. Ka-Zar loomed over her, knife drawn in case either subject woke. Sinister's grip still did not break. The order to kill still echoed in his brain like a beating migraine.

"Ten points off for not adhering to medical restraints." the old mutant said, keeping in character with an effort.

Jean looked up at him. Her eyes flashed, and she promptly ignored him. She looked strained and her skin was paler than normal. That woman was pushing her luck. If Summers were here he'd have ordered Kurt to take Jean back to the village for medical treatment. Jean was in no state to be playing cosmic nurse. And that was to Sinister's liking. Already weak from the Phoenix's outburst, she would not offer up as much a fight.

"So?" Kurt asked, clinging to the walls. "Will she be okay?"

"Kurt, I already told you the last ten times you asked. I'm doing what I can, but Adaryn's not responding to the Phoenix's healing energies. Whatever's blocking my telepathy is also powerful enough to block the Phoenix's energy, too. She needs a real doctor. Which is weird because I _saw _her healing factor working earlier. It's like the Phoenix disabled it or something."

"Disabled?" Kitty repeated. "It can do that?"

"Not much information exists on the Phoenix Force, young lady." Beast ruminated. "And with the protective psychic blocks that are enabled to keep it from vaporizing Ms. Grey whenever its powers are employed, new information is difficult to acquire. It could be that the Phoenix's energy – its 'fire' – acts as an inhibitor rather than an amplifier under specific circumstances that we are not yet fully aware of. It may have weakened the healing factor to the point where it cannot function as effectively as a means of preventing any...surprises. Cold logic, but it _does _work. I'd be interested to see how that works exactly..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

'_Evito_' rang Sinister's voice in Wolverine and his copy's minds.

Logan howled in pain and his copy awoke as if struck by a thunderbolt. His hands clamped to his head as his claws came out against his will. That word – he remembered that word from his years as Weapon X's pet. The kill code. The other X-Men backed away and tensed.

"Mr. Logan!" Kitty cried.

"What's going on?!" Kurt demanded. "What's up with him?!"

Logan offered no answer. He stumbled back against the wall and purposely impaled his claws into the metal and earth. It wouldn't work for long but it would keep him from hurting them right away. The copy ignored the X-Men and focused on Logan instead. Its claws came out and it darted forward.

"_Jean!_" Beast barked frantically. "_Shut their minds down! Shut them down now!_"

With visible effort the telepath focused her own awareness on the targets. Just as the copy raised its arm to slash open the other mutant's neck, and just as Ka-Zar was about to strike back, it staggered back and fell to the ground, limp. Moments later Logan slumped forward onto his knees, panting heavily.

"What was _that_?" Ka-Zar wondered.

Before he could get an answer, he was interrupted by a grim bit of news:

"...Rouge..." Wolverine mumbled. "...mimicked...kid..."

Jean's eyes widened. At her feet, the Harpy woke with a start and rose. Her violet eyes displayed no recognition. But curiously enough, the murderous wrath from earlier was absent. She didn't seem all that interested in maiming them anymore. She seemed...disinterested. Unfocused. Confused yet certain.

"Oh, come on! We don't have time for this!" Kurt complained.

No one knew how to respond when the Harpy screamed, lashed at them violently, and then flew off deeper into the lab. Not knowing what else to do, they took off after her, leaving Logan and his young female copy to recover. Jean strained to get a peek into her mind as they ran but couldn't, but this time she wasn't entirely sure whether the Harpy, Sinister, or the unknown force was blocking her. There was something different about it now. It was..._angrier. _Desperate, too.

* * *

Face blank, Rogue approached the Reverend.

"Rouge." Scott entreated slowly. "Rogue, come on. I know Stryker's crazier than Wolverine on a bad day but do you really wanna _kill _him?"

Sinister unholy smile remained. Oh, if only the poor boy knew that his friend had no choice. Experiment Twenty-Three may be unresponsive at the moment but the instant Rouge had absorbed its powers she had absorbed its memories as well, becoming another weapon for him to exploit. It was all he could do not to laugh. He couldn't have planned this any more perfectly if he'd _tried._

'_Evito_.' he told her again.

Rogue's hand aimed at the man's neck. His breathing hitched while she remained impassive.

"Rogue, no! Don't!" Amara pleaded. At her side, Ferolos tensed.

The mimic did not respond to her. Her expression hardened. She motioned for Stryker to get up, and the Reverend did so. Her hand went wide to swing...

Beast's expression was a mask of horror. "ROUGE! NO!"

There was a blur of color, a yowl of pain, and Ferolos was there with Rogue's claws impaled in his upper chest. Her face showing no shock, she withdrew them. The Cat fell to the ground, bleeding and panting, hands uselessly trying to stem the flow. Rogue once more refocused on Stryker. Rogue never got the chance. Something flew in in a streak of grey and a splitting scream, knocking her to the ground and then zeroing in on Sinister.

"I won't let you hurt them!" the Harpy screamed. "Stop it!"

Sinister's frown became less sadistic and more serious. "Foolish girl. You will obey me. I am the only reason you are alive. I am the only reason you even _exist_."

The Harpy screamed and staggered back as Sinister attacked her mind. Rogue took the opportunity and lashed out. Another scream split the air. Ka-Zar, noticing a brief opening, dashed forward and plunged his poisoned knife into Sinister's shoulder as Jean desperately tried to reach Rogue. Ice-Man covered the mimic's hands in blocks of ice. Unable to strike now with her hands, claws burst out from the tips of her boots. The Harpy tried to stop Rogue as her leg rose up and around for a roundhouse – but couldn't. The tips of the claws met Stryker's face, and blood began to ooze out of the two horizontal wounds that ran from one side of his face, across his nose, and to the other side. They weren't deep but they made for an ugly sight. Beast forewent the computers and bounded over, grabbing Rogue and holding her in a position where she couldn't move.

"Jean!" he barked. Rogue struggled to escape, snarling.

Once more Jean's mind attacked another, and once more the target fell into the void. Rogue slumped forward. He handed her over to Kurt and rushed to the side of Ferolos. Blood was already pooling beneath him in a thin puddle, and he wasn't breathing. Ka-Zar joined him.

"Move." the wild man said sharply. His tattoos began to flicker.

Beast gave him space.

After a tense minute the Cat woke with a shuddering gasp, coughs racking his body. The wounds were still there and he was still bleeding lightly, but he was alive. He called Kitty over and, with her permission, shredded off part of her uniform's lower legs to bandage Ferolos.

"Bobbie. Make sure Mr. Essex doesn't get any ideas." Beast said. "Kurt, find Shanna and get Rogue back to the village. Reverend, are there any medical supplies in here? I have medical training. I can tend to you. Those wounds are deep but the Savage Land is the last place to have an injury become infected."

Ice-Man nodded and went to work pinning the two telepath in place, freezing his hands for good measure. Stryker on the other hand glared at the mutant scientist in wrathful contempt.

"Hypocrites, all of you." he spat. "So desperate to save your 'good names' that you'll wound a civilian in order to 'help' them. You think by doing this you've won? That you'll be considered people? You haven't, and you never will be."

Kurt's yellow eyes flashed and Jean took a threatening step forward. Scott cleared his throat loudly, forcing their attention. He shook his head. Stryker was baiting them. They were better than that.

"We're more human than you'll ever be." Cyclops said. "Think on that when you're in prison."

* * *

**Author's Note: Guh! I'm so, so sorry! First general "being busy," then technical troubles when my laptop's screen has a seizure on Friday and I had to put it in the shop (it's 10/17/2016 when I'm publishing this). But I hope this keeps ya'll busy for a bit. My sister lent me her chromebook so I can continue note-taking (and writing!) till my poor Dell gets back into the game. So yeah.**

**Anyway, cheers! :D**


	43. Chapter 44: Savage Magic

**Autobots, Assemble!**

**Part 2:**

**Galvatron Rising**

**Chapter 43**

* * *

Once Beast had rummaged through enough cabinets and found the necessary bandages and other medicinal items, he went about tending to Reverend Stryker's inflicted injuries. Stryker didn't say a word to him, silently glowering and refusing to make eye contact. Of course, a man such as he would consider being tended to by a mutant of any look or power, no matter if he was a pacifist by nature, to be a humiliating insult.

"You're lucky, you know, that Rogue can't mimic adamantium." he commented dryly. "If those had been adamantium claws I'd be putting you and your head separately into a body bag."

Stryker's face twitched. His eyes glazed briefly, horror replacing his former anger. He seemed to realize now just how fortunate he'd really been. Sharpened bone was a far cry from the strongest artificial metal known to mankind. Adamantium could slice through virtually any substance when sharpened into a blade. Wolverine could cut through metal and stone like paper. And owing to reports on Logan shared by Weapon X with Sinister he could unfortunately imagine what such weapons would do to meek human skin.

Beast rose once the wounds were cleaned and bandaged. Stryker still didn't say a word to anyone. They all had the sense that was because he was readying for a rant. Sinister remained calmly beside him, frowning deeply. Scott's eyes narrowed behind his visor. The red gem on his forehead shimmered faintly, tell-tale proof he was trying to break through the power-dampening cuffs that bound him. But something in his expression was...different somehow. It wasn't the blank, ghostly apparition he was accustomed to. There was something in his eyes. The gem darkened, not just in its light output but in color as well. The ground beneath them rumbled ominously. Test tubes trembled and fell to the floor, shattering. Then, as suddenly as it had started up, it all stopped. Sinister's face changed. What looked eerily like fear glimmered in his blank red eyes.

"Earthquake?" Magma hazarded, more to herself than anyone. Weird. They weren't over a fault line, and she didn't feel any kind of major volcanic stuff beneath her.

Kitty shivered. "I'm not so sure..."

Kurt hesitated on the threshold on hearing them. His tail swished. Something had felt..._wrong _when that temblor had happened. He sensed someone or something was displeased – angry even. And he'd felt that before, a few times actually. One time it had been on another planet. In a puff of sulphurous blue smoke he disappeared. He needed to get Rogue to the village and to a doctor. He also wanted to get away from this lab. Something in it was making his fur stand on end – and it wasn't Sinister. Well, maybe it _was_ Sinister – and someone else.

Beast subsequently ordered the phase-shifter to tend to the Harpy. Her healing factor appeared to have rebooted, but it wasn't nearly as powerful as he recalled. Something about the Pheonix's attack had weakened it but it also seemed to have removed Sinister's ability to control her. Or maybe – and now there was a chilling thought indeed – Sinister hadn't been the one controlling her. Weapon X wasn't above putting control chips into their test subjects (Logan was proof of that) and Sinister was an inconstant benefactor of them.

It wasn't a pretty picture either way. Essex was obviously bound and determined to keep her as a pet attack dog. No one deserved that kind of a fate.

The blue-furred scientist rose to his feet and made his way back to the computers. Though Sinister was a wanted fugitive already and evidence wasn't really needed in order to convinct him, he thought perhaps there might be something in the system that might explain Adaryn's drastic physical transformation and Sinister's enhanced powers. Formulae, for instance, or genetic blueprints. Sinister, like any good scientist, methodically filed his findings and experiments.

What he found in a file labeled "Genosha" left him speechless.

"Summers?"

Cyclops looked up. "Yeah?"

"You need to see this..."

* * *

"So Lykos is some sort of hybrid visovore? He drains energy, which then triggers the transformation?"

Sampson grinned. He hadn't expected a former warlord to have any kind of scientific knowledge or background. And here he was holding an intellectual conversation with him about his patient. Life was just full of surprises.

"Visovore..." the former Cube scientist mused. "I like the sound of that. I've been trying to come up with a term for what he does and you beat me to it. I'll note that down. That could describe Zzax's affliction as well. You'd be surprised how common energy drainers are in our species. Do you have any in your race by any chance? You do run on liquid energy far more efficient than anything we've come up with, not to mention it's a natural resource where you come form."

The living aircraft let out a low rumble that sounded somewhat hesitant. Sampson realized he might've just waltzed into a touchy subject. He decided to change the subject.

"Karl needs the bio-energy of others to survive, but it's mutant bio-energy that triggers the transformation. He discovered that by accident. But the interesting part about him is that previous drainings of regular people did not result in their deaths. It just left them with mild physical weakness as if recovering from a cold. If we could find a way to get him the needed bio-energy...he could very well return to his profession as a physician. We've tried altering his genetic code back to normal with no success."

"Bio-energy?" Galvatron repeated. "If I'm not mistaken, we _both _know someone who produces significant amounts of it naturally. Enough to release it bursts that feel like painful stings."

A light went off in Sampson's head: "Ms. Van Dyne?"

"Indeed."

"I _did _have her in mind, but I didn't want to unduly hassle her or draw her away from her work. I don't have the best reputation with the Avengers either. Do you think you could put a word in to her? See if she might be willing to help? Lykos isn't a bad man. He's just in need of help."

"When we return to the states, of course. I would like to get a status –"

_Bamf!_

Attention was turned to the walls of the village. Standing just inside them was Nightcrawler, an unconscious Rogue held in his arms. Her clothes bore a few droplets of blood on them. His yellow eyes fell on Sampson and the mutant warped over to him.

"You're a doctor, right? Please tell me you're a doctor..."

Sampson blinked. "Ah, I have medical training if that's you're asking me. Professionally I'm a radiologist..."

Kurt looked at him squarely. He extended his arms out to show the young woman to him.

"Help her." he said. "Please."

"Is she the only casualty?" Galvatron demanded.

He noticed the mutant's yellow eyes falter visibly. His tail flicked. His hopes plummeted when he said that she wasn't the only one injured. There were three others.

"Who?"

But rather than answer him with the truth he desired, Nightcrawler bounded over to the high walls, clambered up them, and disappeared in a puff of blue smoke. It was all the mech could do not to pursue him and see for himself who the casualties were. He had a horrible suspicion he already knew who one of them was. Bright and colorful as the jungle was, a familiar malevolence seemed to pervade it. It coiled through the roots, hid in the shadows of the trees. It made his weakened spark shudder. He felt his mesh turn cold.

'_Keep your hands of them..._' he snarled mentally. '_Do you hear me?! Stay away from them!_'

'_Or what?_' purred a voice. '_There is nothing you can do to stop me. You are no Prime. You are a husk whose spark cannot be saved. Accept your fate. You always fall to darkness. It is your nature. It is your curse. Only darkness awaits you._'

'_I beg to differ._'

The cold lifted. Warmth spread back into his frame, and his spark stopped juddering anxiously. He hadn't realized he had been trembling imperceptibly.

"Are you alright?" Sampson wondered. Something about his behavior had changed in a split few seconds.

Galvatron semi-lied: "Fine. I'm fine."

Sampson headed into the hut where he was tending Karl Lykos in an infirmary set up within.

'_What was that?_' he silently demanded. '_I thought he wasn't..._'

'_My apologies, child. You are not yet healed and thus still bear a link to him, meaning he can communicate with you if he so desires. There is little I can do to stop such intrusions at this point, though I can expunge him. But he grows desperate, not confident. He has never been one to accept defeat. You will heal, make no mistake. He will not take you._'

'_No, what did he mean "It is your nature and your curse?" He has never said that before._'

'_..._'

'_Primus?_'

'_I cannot answer that. Not yet._'

'_Yet? So you will._'

'_Time will reveal the answer._'

If he'd been in bipedal mode his optics would've narrowed to mere slits. As it was he portrayed that image to the deity along with a good helping of suspicion. His tone and wording had grown more cryptic. There was something he was not being told, and he wanted to know what it was – even if he had to interrogate his own maker to get it, or get telepaths to help him do so. He did not appreciate being kept in the dark by someone who was supposed to be helping him. Because keeping secrets about this sort of thing _always_ ended well...

Kurt reappeared at that point, carrying a strange form in his arms. It looked like a humanoid of some kind, but it was covered in grey feathers and its feet were that of a bird of prey. When Kurt drew closer, close enough to see the being's face, he felt his spark stop and his Energon freeze in its tracks. His mesh ran cold. He recognized that face despite the feathers. He recognized the bright aquamarine eyes, barely open. Were it that he could see Adaryn the way she had been and not the way she was now. Someone had taken the meaning of her name and twisted it into a terrible, terrible, warped reality.

"No..." he whispered in horror. His voice rose to a near roar in the span of a nanosecond. "NO!"

The mutant flinched back. His long ears folded down.

"Who did this to her?! Sinister?! Stryker?!"

"Galv..." Kurt started.

"TELL ME!" the mech thundered.

"We...we're not sure. We need to get back to the Institute. The Professor will be able to tell. We've got equipment there."

Elder Bravik drew up to examine what had once been a fairly normal human being. A tattooed hand reached out to brush over the singed wing feathers. One feather was quickly plucked out. Without a word the Elder took this single feather to the large fire burning in the middle of the village. The feather was dropped in on the outermost fringes of the flame, where it burnt to ash in seconds. A thin line of foul-smelling, violet-tinged smoke rose up. The Elder frowned.

"Your science alone may not be able to help her, young trickster." he said grimly. "It was science and magic that was used to change her, and so science and magic together must be used to reverse it. Ka-Zar might be able to weaken the hold it has on the body, but he hasn't the skill to undo it entirely. That would require one well-versed in the mystic arts."

Some of the mech's fury simmered down. He admitted he happened to someone with those exact qualifications, and he was even on friendly terms with him. He was a fledgling warlock thanks to the man's tutelage, capable of something none of his fellow Cybertronians could accomplish – at least that he was aware of. That statement of his earned a raised eyebrow from the Elder and a wry smile.

"The Sorcerer Supreme, yes? I admit that he would be her best hope. You could take her to him?"

"Personally. Right this moment if need be."

His engine growled to life. Bravik held up a hand to halt him.

"Patience, star-walker. It will be of no use to take her to the Sorcerer if he cannot begin to undo what has been done. He knows much, but there are some things magical even he is not an expert in. Savage Land magic should be able to weaken its bond. Our sorcery is crude but strong. I would do so myself, but the strain on me would be too much. Wait for the Land's Lord. He can help her."

The scream of engines made some of the villagers jump and cry out. Hands were pointed wildly into the air, revealing three S.H.I.E.L.D aircraft racing over the jungle's canopy like black raptors on the hunt. Within a few minutes they had faded to black pinpoints in the muggy, clouded skies, headed for the shimmering expanse of blue water in the distance. If they were here it meant the enemy was defeated. It also meant any more wounded could be treated on site or else ferried to the Helicarrier for further treatment.

Good. Maybe this hadn't been such a disaster after all.

His comm. link pinged: [Galvatron?] That was Scott's voice. He sounded worried.

"Yes?"

[We have a problem...]

[A really, _really _big problem.] Kitty confirmed.

* * *

"_I'm almost afraid to ask, but...how big of a problem are we talking about?_"

Scott took a deep breath before he elaborated:

"Those Sentinels we and the Brotherhood have been fighting on and off over the past month or so with you – those weren't just field tests on viable subjects. They were _adaptation _tests. Every time we fought them they learned to adapt to our tactics and powers through the use of an advanced computer system code named 'Master Mold.' And not only that, the man who is busy making them – a man named Bolivar Trask – is funded under-the-table by the government and he began mass production of them over a year ago. The ones that were sent after us were...sacrificial guinea pigs, I guess."

"_I fail to see how this is a problem, Summers. Adapting does not make a machine sentient. Anything can adapt. Only sentient beings can truly learn. If something cannot learn, it can be defeated._"

"It's not the Sentinels I'm worried about." Scott admitted. "It's where they're supposed to be _sent _and what they're supposed to _do _once they get there."

"_And that would be...?_"

Beast interrupted: "Galvatron, Senator Robert Kelly has unofficially ordained a platoon of these advanced Mega-Sentinels to converge on Genosha and exterminate a number of mutants designated as 'threats to society.' That includes Magneto and his family. Once the extermination of those high level targets is done they are to incarcerate the rest and deliver them to various MRD stations around the States. What they do with the prisoners is up to the station commanders, but according to some of these reports some of them have agreed to sell captives to the Weapon X program."

Kitty could almost hear the alien's energy-heart stop.

"_When?_"

"Can't say. There's a file on here labeled 'Omega' that's heavily encrypted." Scott reported. "I think that might either be data on the Master Mold program or else the attack specifics. Omega is the last letter in the Greek alphabet and usually it's associated with endings or general badness. Man, why didn't we bring Forge...? Or it could be something else."

"There _is_ the chance the attack date hasn't been verified." came a low growl of a voice.

Logan stood in the doorway, supporting himself on the frame. Never did a man look more guilty or haggard.

"Could be this plan is still in the works." he finished. "You know how politicians can be."

Stryker silently glowered at the mutant. He was the reason mutants couldn't be trusted, and here this man was practically the second face of the Xavier Institute. A half dozen S.H.I.E.L.D field operatives came in behind Logan. One of them came forward to kneel by Ka-Zar and inspect the prone Ferolos, not in the least astonished the Cat wasn't dead despite his gruesome chest injury or the fact that the Land's Lord had hand over him, his arm tattoos were glowing, and faint tendrils of energy were spiraling down the limb and Ferolos's body. It was Agent Mae – the "Cavalry." Surprised as Bobbie and Kitty were to see her, they were also thankful. She was _not _a women you messed with. Not even Ghost Riders were willing to mess with her!

"We'll handle this, Mr. Summers." said another agent as they stepped forward. "The MRD is our responsibility. If they really have gone rogue and are planning attack in collusion with a U.S Senator, it's our job to stop them. If you would be so kind as to put all of those files plus the sealed one in this –" He handed Cyclops a flash drive. "I will get those files to Fitz right away. Soon we get the thing open, we'll give you a call."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Coulson." Beast said.

"Well, frankly if we'd kept a tighter leash on the MRD we might've prevented the whole abduction incident in the first place, and this in association." Coulson admitted. "Consider this a down payment for all the help S.H.I.E.L.D hasn't given you. I'd have Fury handle the government part of this but he's busy with the backlash the Tower Fire caused. Hill and I will deal with that."

"_...If I'm not interrupting_ _anything..._" Galvatron began "_Ka-Zar_._ You're needed back in the village. Orders from Elder Bravik._"

Coulson's head jerked over to the communicator Scott held in his hand. One eyebrow rose. That voice was on record in the Helicarrier as a strange "squadron wanderer" who also happened to be a titanic extraterrestrial. Hm. Mae had told him he was working with the X-Men, but considering what went on in here he was surprised he wasn't there with them. Ka-Zar shared a look with Ferolos. The perky Cat gave him a weak thumbs up and jerked his head towards the door. The Land's Lord had other places to be. He wasn't about to absorb all his time and energy. Cats had nine lives. He still had eight more to go. Plus, there was a medic here now. Reluctantly, Ka-Zar rose and left the room. A low roar in the halls outside signaled the arrival of Zabu. Seconds later the big cat dashed by the open door in a blur of tawny gold.

"Galvatron, I assume?" guessed Coulson after a moment. "Do you anything to sa-"

_CLICK_. The line promptly went dead.

Coulson's brow rose higher. And here he thought the alien might be a little chattier. He'd apparently gotten pretty voluble with Kelly after he'd stormed into his office with barely so much as a one-minute warning via the secretary. The stir that had caused afterwards had...certainly been something according to Mockingbird.

Kitty rose to his defense: "He's a little...upset about the fire, sir. Please try not to hassle him about it, okay?"

The man's eyebrow lowered. "Ah. Sorry. I wasn't aware. If he calls again, tell me I didn't mean to upset him. I do have his frequency but...I'm worried he might just block my number."

* * *

Ka-Zar ran into Shana outside the hidden laboratory. She was a little scuffed up and bruised in a few places but otherwise she was in one piece. Smiling, she tossed him a crudely shaped spear. The weapon was far too crude to belong to any of the People here, looking to have been cobbled together. The tip was sharpened bone.

"From the mutates?" he guessed.

"Their leader." Shana bragged. "I would've taken one of their shamans' staffs but I was busy trying not to get acid spit on me by their little helpers. How's the Cat? I felt the Land surge. Something happened to him."

Ka-Zar rather curtly and quickly explained what had transpired within the lab. Shana winced, but she was also curious as to the unnatural grip the strange pale man had on others. That might explain why some of the villagers returned without any idea of what they'd done outside the walls, or the oddly strategic behavior of the wildlife. She was even more curious to learn of the man's creation experiments. A man who could create life catered to his own specific blueprints had talent. If only he wasn't so focused on genetic purging...

Zabu nudged the man and let him hop onto his back. He then helped Shana up. The tiger padded deeper into the jungle. They passed the sleek form of the Blackbird, heading for the shore of the Sea. It would be longer walking, but neither of them knew how to fly the giant aircraft. But there was a small Cat settlement on the shores who could probably spare them some magic and a boat.

* * *

The village was in a state of mild upheaval when they arrived. Villagers approached and spoke of the Black Eagles that had recently flown over the village and across the Sea. Ka-Zar assured them they were here to help transport wounded and prisoners, nothing more. The people withdrew. The Blackbird had beat them to the village it seemed. He could sense something heavy beyond the walls,

The strange green-haired man emerged from one of the tents looking baffled, in deep discussion with the Elder. He noticed him and motioned him forward silently. Ka-Zar noticed a wary glance was tossed at the giant star-walker he had confined to the village. He could almost see the air around him simmering. Though he still wasn't pleased with his rapid kill of the raptor alpha (which had been trained by the Cliffwalkers and so made the attack a political one) he had to grudgingly admit that he had a passion in him.

"Elder." he nodded. "You asked for me?"

Wordlessly the Elder guided him inside the main public building. Lykos was still there in his human form (presently draining a small amount of bio-energy from the man) and Rogue and the Harpy appeared to have arrived safely. Kurt lingered nearby. In fact, Rogue was already awake and trying to comfort the semi-conscious Harpy. No longer did either act the part of the savage animal – the Harpy in particular was now behaving as if she wanted to find a corner, hide in it, and never come out again. On seeing him her bright aquamarine eyes widened. She shrank back. Rogue held a hand up in a silent request for him to keep his distance. Ka-Zar, though not pre-disposed in the Harpy's favor, did so.

Sampson came over. A hushed conversation ensued. A decision was made. Bravik stood back while Sampson took up a post beside Adaryn and Ka-Zar stepped up. The Harpy shrank back, terrified and ashamed at the same time.

"What are you going to do?" Rogue demanded threateningly. "You lay _one _hand on her in a way I don't like –"

Ka-Zar returned her expression. "You want her condition reversed? Let me do this. If I do not, your Sorcerer Supreme will have his hands tied."

Rogue didn't back down but she let him come closer. However, she tensed when Ka-Zar drew his knife out. Bravik shook his head but she didn't loosen up. Ka-Zar's arm tattoos began to glow after a moment, faint tendrils of the Land's energy spiraling down and into the weapon. Before Rogue could move to stop him, the knife was driven across Adaryn's feathered arm, leaving a thin cut that began to ooze blood.

"What in hell are you –?!" Rogue started, infuriated.

Her protest was brought to a stop when the energy from Ka-Zar began to seep into the inflicted injury. A minute later Adaryn let out a shriek of pain that quickly devolved into a howl of agony. The pulse monitor by the cot began to beep wildly.

"Stop it!" cried the mimic. "Stop it! You're hurting her!"

"She's going into shock, Ka-Zar! It's not worth it!" Sampson argued. Frantically the man went for his medical kit and pulled out a hypodermic syringe filled with sedative. He readied to use it.

But Ka-Zar did not stop. He kept at whatever it was he was doing, his expression one of deadly concentration. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. Still the feathered, mutated human being howled. Some of the feathers on her legs and face actually receded to reveal normal skin beneath. And then, just when it looked like the girl might go into shock, the Land's Lord halted his strange power. The energy stopped flowing. His tattoos dimmed back to simple paint as a hand went to his head. Adaryn's screaming died down, her writing ended. She went still. A shadow fell across the threshold of the dwelling to reveal a tall black form and a group of worried and semi-aggravated mutants. Behind them stood villagers in wide-eyed shock.

"I cannot do any more for her. She needs a Sorcerer now." said the man, suddenly sounding exhausted. "Galvatron, take her. Swiftly. As fast as your wings can carry you."

The figure held by the Fall tribesman shoved himself free and went over to the unconscious girl. A glance of mute rage was tossed in Ka-Zar's direction, and something flickered in his hands like an apparition. It had looked vaguely like a sword. Ka-Zar knew a threat when he saw one; perhaps he deserved it too. That reaction...that had been severe, far worse than anything he'd seen. Whoever had transformed her didn't want to lose her – apparently willing to let her die just to maintain that grip.

Gently the girl's form was scooped up and the black-winged figure strode out in a whirl. She was deposited in the cockpit of the giant living machine, and then the form disappeared like a phantom. There was a great roar and the titan lifted into the skies. Then, with a loud bang, Galvatron shot off into the humid skies.

"Winds be with you..." murmured Shana.

* * *

As soon as he reached the edge of the jungle and hit the snow of the outside the mech opened up a comm. link to the medic thousands of klicks away in the middle of the desert.

"Ratchet, I need a groundbridge. Quickly!"

[I expect some answers later on about why you were at one of the poles and your core temperature never dropped.]

"Fine. 'Bridge. Now."

[Pushy, pushy.] Miko noted. [Well, pushi_er_.]

A vortex swirled open ahead of him. In a blink of light he flew inside, and a second later the oddity snapped shut.

* * *

**Author's Note: Bit of a shorter chapter. Next one will be longer. :) Also, another magic user will be introduced...**

**Oh, and I passed all my courses this semester: A, A, B, A. Go me! Three semesters with similar grades! Whoo! I'm on a roll here peeps!**


	44. Chapter 45: MAJOR NOTICE! PLEASE READ!

**NOTICE: Autobots Assemble! Series  
**

* * *

After much, much consideration, I've decided to get rid of all my AA stuff and start from scratch.

Now, I know some are you are loyal and will not doubt argue this decision. No, don't stop! Keep going! It's great! But there are many reasons for this decision of mine, some of them personal. I ask you to read below to understand my reasoning for this. This is not a hasty decision like some of my other "upload and delete" stories from the distant past.

For starters, I write for fun. After three years of writing that series, I've grown a bit bored with it and moved on to more strictly Transformer stuff. I write for my own enjoyment as much as you guys' and thanks to my Asperger's I can focus intently on things for long periods of time, but...well, I dunno. I'm not quite as "into" it when I write a chapter now as I used to be. Now, it feels more like a deliberate chore than a fun thing to do in my spare time. I don't like it when something feels forced or like a chore because I feel it sucks the life out of the effort. Let's just say I need a break from it for a bit. Secondly, my writing skills have vastly improved over the past three years or so and I feel like all my AA stuff is in desperate need of an upgrade in that sense. I'd go through chapter by chapter and one-shot by one-shot, but not only would that make me cringe, it would take too long and improvement would be harder. It's easier to work with a blank sheet of paper than something that already has something there that may or may not be all that great. Keep in mind I'm a full-time college student for half the year, and this summer I'm going to be hunting for jobs or else taking a summer course, so my spare time is going to be limited even further if that goes through.

Thirdly, lastly, and most importantly is the issue of plot. AA Book One was not entirely original and was far too "episode based" after the first couple of chapters. Granted that was my very first fic and I was "testing the waters" so to speak. Though I borrow ideas (with permission) from other writers/artists and happily play in the creative sandbox, I want AA to be as original as possible. AA Book Two started going down that route but then the plot began to go "helter skelter" as I recently told one reviewer in a discussion. I didn't follow up on plot points very well, I left out a lot of things, and to me, after a while, it began to feel too dragged out. In short, AA Book Two _became too long_. I will admit right now I'm barely halfway through the plot I had for it, and I realized only a week ago I was trying to avoid writing chapters for it because I wanted to work on more complex, thought-out stories like NotB and it's mini-series (which bears original characters and an unexplored universe I can play with to my heart's content, along with a plot I've thought out much better in the long run) and FoY, which has been receiving overwhelmingly positive reviews (199 of them to be exact) and is entirely original. AA Book Two only has 99. I'd also like to work on the Prime/Kaijudo series of massive one-shots because the universe is just gloriously diverse in the latter series. I've been rather bad about updating that to be honest.

But don't fret my loyal viewers! This doesn't mean the AA series and the one-shots is disappearing entirely! Far from it! :) I just need a bit of a break to re-organize my thoughts, my plot – and (I'll be frank here) get my Creative Writing class for next semester squared away. I'm hoping that can help my writing skills further and maybe give me some ideas to play with.

AA _will _return in the future, dear viewers – I can't say exactly when, but it'll be better and brighter and more cohesive than before. :) But for now, I say I wipe clean the slate, let my brain recharge, and finish some other projects that I'm more "into" first. But for now, expect these stories all to go down within a few days of this notice. I just need a break.

Your faithful addicted authoress,

-MiniKoontzy

*_P.S please don't hate me for this :(...I'm very sad I have to make this decision._*


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